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astrophileous · 7 months

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fem!reader x derek morgan, where they're like really flirty and i mean like kissing, holding hands, reader sits on his lap.

and after a case hotch is like yelling at derek because they had a disagreement, and reader comes in and was like "stop yelling at my best friend!" and he freezes because he genuinely thought that they were dating.

and they get teased n shit, and later reader cant sleep so derek is playing with her hair and he mumbles "i love you." and she says it back, and her words are slurred because shes so tired.

ty for the request honey!! I changed a few details abt it, I hope that's okay?? The main gist is still the same tho so I hope you like this ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, angst a lil bit bcs Derek is having inner turmoil, mutual pining (they're both idiots)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"It wasn't his fault."

Your voice cut through the silence as an unforeseen rapier. Every pair of eyes in the station fell on you in instinct. You despised the attention with every fiber of your being, but in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn't do to save Derek from being appointed as the fall guy, including offering yourself up as a temporary human spectacle as you stepped forward to where the three men were huddled up.

"Agent (Y/L/N)," Hotch warned in his familiar commanding lull.

"Sweet girl," Derek's voice came a little quieter, "what are you doing?"

You ignored your two fellow teammates as you faced the tall man between them. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. We never intended to overstep your authority. We didn't know the witness was one of our UnSubs when we visited his house. Agent Morgan was only acting in favor of my safety, so really, if there's anyone you should be mad at, it should be me."

The sheriff assessed you with rancorous eyes before turning back towards Hotch. "Get your team under control, Agent. Remember that y'all are a guest here."

With that last message, the sheriff walked away and disappeared into his office. Hotch turned to you and Derek following the sheriff's departure. "We'll talk about this later."

Once Hotch was out of earshot, Derek pulled you towards him. The rest of the station had already returned towards their previous tasks, safe for several pairs of eyes belonging to your other team members who seemed too eager to catch a snippet of your conversation with Derek. Before you could reprimand them, Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "What the hell are you doing?"

You turned your head and frowned. "What?"

"Why did you say all of that stuff to the sheriff, sweetheart?"

"Because it's the truth? You did make that call because you were protecting me, right?"

"I did, but you still didn't need to do any of that. I can take care of it myself."

"Derek—" you sighed, plopping your hand right on top of his shoulder, "—I know you can take care of pretty much everything by yourself, but I don't want you cleaning up my mess just for the sake of our relationship. Let me handle it on my own, okay?"

A hot remark was ready on the tip of Derek's tongue, but the words were soon forgotten when he heard the single word that cut off the circulation completely from his brain. Dumbfoundedly, he stared at you as he said, "Relationship?"

"Well, yeah." You smiled, dragging your hand upward from his shoulder until you were cupping his cheek. "You're my best friend, Derek."

Just as fast as you had flown him to the clouds, you sent Derek plummeting straight towards the ground where he imploded into pieces. The man could barely register the feeling of your lips on his other cheek before he watched you stride away, leaving him standing in the middle of the station like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're my best friend, Derek," Emily teased from where she was standing a few feet away. Behind her, JJ and Spencer were laughing along. "Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?"

Derek flipped the three of them off, earning another series of laughter from his coworkers before he walked off towards the direction of the pantry. In the back of his head, Emily's question lingered like a shallow wind.

Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?

Maybe because Derek thought you were official.

But apparently, according to you, you weren't.

So what the hell did that kiss that the two of you shared at the end of your last movie night even mean?

For the rest of the team's stay in Pasco, Florida, the ambiguous status of your relationship became a permanent fixture in Derek's mind. It haunted him even after he boarded the BAU's jet, preparing for the flight back home towards Quantico, Virginia. He was too lost in his own world that he didn't realize you had been calling out his name until your hand touched his cheek.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked worriedly.

Derek was sitting on the long sofa at the end of the cabin; and you, as always, were lying on the same sofa with your head resting on his lap. He still remembered the first time the two of you assumed this habit on the jet, receiving cheeky glances and playful jabs from the rest of the team in the aftermath. The teasing had dwindled significantly by now. Everyone was so used to the sight that it didn't warrant a surprised reaction anymore.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't think he could get accustomed to this.

As he stared down towards your inquisitive eyes, Derek realized that the sight of your face still took his breath away as much as it did the first time he laid eyes upon you. He brought down a finger and ran them up and down your cheek, his heart inflating when you rewarded him with a gleaming smile.

"Wanna come over tonight? We didn't finish that movie last week," you offered.

At the mention of your last movie night, Derek's mind traveled back to the memory of your kiss. It was nothing grand, just a five-seconds heaven where Derek's tongue had tasted remnants of the wine you shared and a little something else that he was sure had uniquely belonged to you. He sealed it with another peck on your forehead after that, wishing you a good night rest and a fantastic dream as he left the comfort of your apartment.

Derek couldn't sleep that night. After all, that was the best kiss the man had ever had in his entire life; but it looked like you hadn't felt the same way as him about it at all.

This knowledge was a stake right through Derek's heart. Everything tasted bitter as he swallowed, and perhaps that was reason enough to why the next words tumbled out of his lips in a reply, "Sorry, sweet girl. I've got errands to run. Next time?"

Derek pretended not to see the way your face collapsed in disappointment at his answer.

Back at his own apartment, Derek proceeded to spend a whole hour flipping through TV channels until his hand was numb. Many of his nights lately were spent in your company, and as the surrounding solitude closed in on him, Derek realized that he didn't remember how to spend nights by himself anymore. He was absentmindedly changing the channel yet again when his finger suddenly stopped frozen on the remote.

Your favorite movie was showing on the TV screen.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to claim that seeing the movie he had always associated with you appear on his TV was a celestial omen, but Derek deemed it an enough sign for him to get his ass off the couch and drove all the way down to your apartment. He stood in front of your door not even twenty minutes later, having sped through traffic as if he were invincible to every threat on the roads. You opened the door for him on the third knock, your eyes blown so widely out of proportion when you spotted him standing on your doorway.

"Derek? What are you doing here?"

"Sweet girl, are you... have you been crying?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Derek took two steps forward, closing the front door behind him as he was finally standing inside your apartment. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

His question managed to break the last dam in your ribcage, sending you straight into another flood of uncontrollable tears. You leaped into Derek's arms out of the blue, cramming your face into his chest as your tears soaked the front part of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for, sweet girl?"

"T-The kiss. We shouldn't have done that. We shouldn't have k-kissed. It was a mistake."

Derek's stomach crashed squarely towards the ground. "A mistake?"

You nodded against his chest, pulling away to stare directly at Derek's face. Your eyes were red and puffy from hours of crying, and yet, Derek still thought you were the most heavenly creature he had ever seen in his entire life.

"That's w-why you've been acting strange, right? The kiss? Y-You're mad at me because of the kiss?"

"Wait. What—"

"I-I didn't... fuck—I didn't mean for everything to come to this. I never meant t-to make you run from me like this. I'm so, so sorry."

"Sweetheart—"

"I can pretend! Please, I can pretend like it never happened. T-That's what you want, r-right? I can forget about the kiss as long as—"

You didn't have the chance to finish your sentence.

Not when Derek suddenly pressed his lips against yours, seizing the words and the breath thoroughly out of your throat.

Butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered in the world except for Derek's hands on your skin and the way his tongue danced with yours as he deepened the kiss even further. You could've spent the rest of eternity kissing him like this if it weren't for the need to come up for air. That was the singular reason why you even agreed to pull away at last, albeit reluctantly.

"Derek?" Your voice was thin and fragile amidst the quietude of your home. "I don't understand... I thought—"

"No, sweetheart," Derek cut you off, leaving a quick peck on your lips because he couldn't help himself. "Remember in Florida when you called me your best friend? I thought that was your way of telling me you regretted the kiss."

"What? So... you weren't mad at me?"

"No, of course not." He scoffed incredulously. "How could I ever be mad at you?"

"I just thought—"

"Hey, look at me." Derek tilted your face by the chin until you were looking directly into his eyes. "I'm yours, (Y/N). Do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I'm yours, too, Derek. Forever."

Derek spent the night at your home afterward. Although it wasn't the first time he stayed over, something about it felt fresh and brand new as he lay on your bed as officially yours while you lay next to him as officially his. He nuzzled your body flush against him, entangling every inch of your limbs with his own as he listened to the steady intakes and outtakes of your breathing.

"I love you, sweetheart," Derek murmured against your hair, playing with the end of the strands as he heard you let out another tired sigh. "You know that, right?"

"Hmm? I love you, too," you mumbled blearily, burrowing yourself deeper into his warmth before sleep finally took over your whole being.

Safe to say, you had the best sleep that night than you ever did in your entire lifetime.

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jamjaemin · 8 months

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𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 pt2

Pairing:bf!dreamies × gf!reader

Genre:+18 obviously nsfw mdi, , I see you

Summary:here we go again since y'all loved the pt1, dreamies thoughts I think they're accurate bc I'm a sex therapist and whenever I see their faces I know exactly what's going on trust me (this is not a summary anymore XD)

Author’s note: I'll turn some of these thoughts into smuts when I find time bc my college won't let me now.

Now playing: wine pon you slowed | doja cat

- one day, he'll surprise you with a date on a private yatch, after a drink and in the middle of the day, you made your way to the couch and before you knew it, he had his head between your legs. it wasn’t long before you were coming on his face, whimpering his name like a prayer.

Chenle, chenle,ZHONG CHENLE (the amount of times I think about this scenario is insane, in a white sundress looking so gorgeous for him..he want nothing but to eat you out)

- you were staying the night at a motel when you asked him to spank you. at first, he completely refused but after a lot of puppy eyes and pouty lips, then he enjoyed it as much as you did or maybe more.

Mark, Jeno (when they're super turned on they'll make you cry "im giving you what you asked for" is their motto, spank you harder if you don't answer them) Jaemin, Jisung (the exact opposite, they're the type to check on you with every spank, light spanking but if you asked for more they'll do it harder, still check on you tho)

- record you both getting at it to watch at a later date. A lot of hissing, humming and moaning, especially when he’s close.

Heavy on Haechan (he's not the main vocalist for nothing, so vocal in bed istg. when watching them again, The probability of having sex after is 100%)

- he would love to fuck you near a large mirror and tell you how pretty you look taking all of his cock, squeezing every inche of him and cum over and over again until you're can't take it anymore.

Super heavy on Jaemin (praising you all the time, hands touching all of your body with some shoulder kisses, when you get shy he will force you to look at the mirror by holding your jaw and make you see how you're falling apart against him)

- Likes to watch you masturbate, putting his head close and observing intently. Loses his shit if you moan his name while doing so.

Heavy on Renjun, chenle (moaning his name is the green light to help you out, toys, teasing, fingering...all of them while speaking chinese, make you cum hard but not harder than how his cock fills your pussy after) mark, haechan (will masturbate while watching you) jeno, jisung, jaemin (helping each other's masturbate, his fingers playing with your clit and your hand wrapped around his length)

- Very good at memorising how you like things done. What makes you pur and what makes you feral.

Renjun ( the details of your body, kinks, limits, never left his mind)

- When he's drunk the wild side in him shows. Not innocent. Not as gentle as you thought. He love making you stutter, holds your neck steadily, choking you. “You like this, don’t you?! Don’t look away!” It was obvious. He was going to fuck your brains out. He’ll make sure the only word you know is "more".

Jisung (he's a freak and good at hiding it, don't argue with me) Haechan (i added him just bc he have a thing for choking and being choked, he will give you a teasing smile if you do it to him then make you learn your place)

- Maybe you ignored him for fun. You didn’t want to take it far, but his reactions of “not caring” were so hilarious to you. Once he found out you were pranking him, He will ignore your orgasms just like you ignored him.

Heavy on Mark ( ain't the leader for nothing, i can imagine how hot and dominant he gets when he's mad, you would need a wheelchair for a good 2 weeks)

- He would play games, head between your thighs and die to end the game and eat you out, if he won he’ll eat your pussy gently and take his time with it but if he loses he’ll devour it and won't stop even when you beg him.

Haechan (blaming you and saying its all your thighs fault), Jeno, jisung (the special way of celebrating their victory or taking out the anger of defeat)

- The air always hung heavy when he's working out. it's the way his brows furrow in intense concentration or the groans he make as his muscles flex. either way, it’s a big turn on for you and he knows it. “c’mon, I know you want it sweetheart, open up for me,” “princess… you can give me one more, right?” “that’s my girl.”

Na fucking Jaemin, jeno (no explanation needed, i know..you know...we know)

Have a great day/night and ty for reading♡

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7ndipity · 11 months

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Fights with them

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: what they would be like during fights/arguments

Warnings: a lot of angst, not proofread

A/N: after days of struggling to work(hello executive disfunction) I got this request, and my brain decided to jump back into gear and I wrote this in like an hour, as well as half of another request!? 🤷idk, I'm not gonna question it, I'm just glad I'm writing again.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Seokjin: as much as he bickers with the members, I think he has a rather avoidant personality when it comes to real conflict. He's said he allergic to seriousness, which can definitely become an issue if not careful, as it can one off as indifferent or dismissive. I think he usually ends up snapping and saying something short but pointed, and then walks away before things can escalate further. Always comes back all apologetic, and tries to work through things more calmly.

Yoongi: He's very upfront and sometimes blunt, and he's said before that he hates getting angry/fighting, so I think most issues would be resolved before they can turn into a full blown fight. But I also think he might have a tendency to ignore/avoid smaller issues until they build up. In the moment, he's not that loud, but he's very sharp with his words. Immediately regrets saying anything that might have hurt you afterwards. Definitely needs some time to himself to think and get his emotions under control, but would want to apologize and resolve everything as quickly as possible.

Hobi: He's almost to open too let a fight brew properly. He'll see it coming be like, "wait, let's step back and sort this out" before it gets out of hand. When they do happen though, he's loud only for a moment, and then the rest of the time, he's unnervingly quiet. As I said in his dating HCs, fights almost always culminate in tears because he can't stand y'all being upset with each other. Like, it causes him physical pain. Makes up the fastest out of all the members.

Namjoon: tbh, I think I would fight with him the most out of the members. He's soo stubborn and passive aggressive. Tries to dismiss the issue to de-escalate the situation, but that almost always backfires. Gets loud and slams things/doors, then gets mad at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Definitely needs time to cool off before coming back to talk to you; could be an hour, could be three days, depends on the situation. But he does always come back to talk it out with you.

Jimin: I know several of the big fight stories involve him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's overly combative, I just think that when he feels strongly about something, he won't back down, which can be a good thing, until it isn't. If it's a smaller argument, he'll just say something snappish and then move on like nothing happened, but in bigger fights, he can rival Joon on volumeand intensity. He can also hold a grudge like you wouldn't believe, so communication is a super important part of resolving the issue so nothing brews into bitterness.

Taehyung: He has a tendency to get very wrapped up in the moment and take things personally, so even small fights can snowball into something bigger if you're not careful. Yells and tries to put up a tough exterior, but starts to crack pretty quick and will want to leave before his other emotions show too much. Another crier(same). Ultimately, can't stand being away from you for too long, the type that will climb in bed and hold you, but not speak because the wounds are still fresh. Will probably talk it out with you the next morning.

Jungkook: He's such a emotional and overly reactive person, so I see fights being a common occurrence with him tbh. With smaller fights, he stays pretty calm, but when things escalate, he's all over the place. Definitely an angry crier. For some reason, I don't see him really yelling during fights? He's more like Hobi in that, if he does, it only happens in bursts and the rest of the time, his tone is just slightly raised(like when he scolds ppl during lives). Does not like to walk away and wants to sort things out then and there, even though that's probably not the best idea, but he doesn't want to let the tension drag on longer than it has to.

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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fwb! ghost brainrot ive officially decided its gotta turn into ghoap x reader or im gonna eat my flextape. hopefully i can connect this one to the first one. team fix your plotholes or else, perra.

Fwb! Simon who just turned exclusive doesn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. Can’t say it doesn’t sting but as he said, you asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend. You understand because you aren’t sure Johnny would take too kindly to his best friend being disrespected in bed by someone he knows is a bonafide manwhore.

So when Johnny pulls a pretty woman at the bar y'all are in, he also brings her friend for Simon, and that makes you prickle with jealousy. With a huff, you turn to face the crowd— away from the bitch putting her manicured hands on Simon. You’d like to believe that he is reciprocating her attention because if he doesn’t, Johnny would find it suspicious. But the way he wraps his arm around her waist, flirting back so effortlessly, reminds you of his ways. Of how he is.

Simon isn’t stupid. He wasn’t a part of the elite force Johnny’s in only because of his brawn. He was also brain. And that infuriates you. Talking to Simon is like dealing with a fucking genie. Better be specific to the minute detail or anything that’s left to assumption is free game.

Grabbing Johnny’s forearm to get his attention, he doesn’t look at you— too busy sweet-talking his next conquest, so you dig your nails into his skin. You see him wince and pull away roughly to sneer at the offender, but then his features smooth out instantly, once he realizes it’s you. Ice-blue eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol in his system, yet it feels like all he can see is you. His reaction makes your heart skip a beat, how quickly he ignores everything around him— puts everything on the backburner if you need something from him. You can't help the pleased smile that curls your lips at the realization.

“Hey, Johnny boy. I’ma go pay the tab,” and then you flick your eyes to the woman, “ do not leave without me.”

“Dinnae worry, hen, as if I’d ever leave ye anywhere.” Your smile turns gloriously smug when you see the woman look at you in undisguised contempt. Blessed be Johnny, always in your corner. With another squeeze to his forearm, you chuckle when you hear a “Claws in, kitten!” and move to get up when you notice Simon no longer flirting with miss thing, but intently looking at Johnny’s forearm, which still has the half-moon marks of your nails on it. His gaze then snaps to yours, with an almost knowing glint behind them.

You roll your eyes and briskly walk to the bartender, flagging him down. When the bartender gives you the receipt to sign, a voice asks if he can buy you a drink. Sighing, you turn around to tell whoever that you aren’t interested.

“Incredibly generous, but—” and freeze. “Long time no see, eh?”

It’s your ex. You ended things amicably enough— surprising, for him having been your first boyfriend, first everything, really. Y’all just outgrew each other emotionally. Hugging him, you exclaim, “Jesus Christ, how’ve you been! It’s been far too long. What’re you doin’ here?”

He responds, “I was just in town and figured I could get a drink, maybe some company,” you don’t miss the implication of that, but choose to ignore it.

“How’s that goin’ for ya?”, and then he reaches out to grab your wrist and runs his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ve got you now, don’t I? You look fantastic.” You’re about to let him down lightly when your hand is snatched out of his, and you’re forcibly pulled against someone, strong arm over your shoulders.

“Whatever ye wan’ with her, the answer is naw. ” Johnny. You smother the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, how silly of you to think it could’ve been Simon.

“Forever the guard dog, eh, John?” and Johnny’s arm tightens almost painfully and snarls.

“Still around, are ye? Just like a roach, boy.” Johnny and your ex never got along— always a pissing contest. You have an inkling that it’s because of how close you two were and still are.

Your ex scoffs loudly at him, then looks at you. “It’s your choice, unless you’ve got a boyfriend?” and you shake your head. Johnny pulls you to stand in front of him, both arms holding you close.

“She doesnae. No one’s good enough fer her. Including ye.”

Sucking your teeth, you sink your nails into Johnny’s forearm, again. “I think that’s for me to decide, no?” and pull at his arms to release you. “You’ve got some nerve, Johnny, bringing me here just to watch you and Ghost—” when you’re roughly pulled to the side, held down by a much larger body. Simon. Your heart hammers in your chest. How long has he been standing here?

He lowers his mouth to your ear and sternly says, “Behave, pet. The sergeant said no. End of story.”

When he uses that voice, all you can do is obey.

“And who’re you?” You can feel Simon stand to his full height, broad shoulders straightening, posturing. Even slouched, he towered over your ex but standing like this, exuding strength and authority, it’s almost comical how large of a difference there is between them two— especially with you in his arms.

“I’m guard dog number two,” and your ex pales slightly. “I’d fuck off,” and Simon points towards the exit with his head, “Now.” He stiffens for a second, eyes bouncing between Johnny and Simon, and bolted—like prey after detecting predators. Not even a goodbye. You don't know if to applaud his sense of self-preservation or curse his cowardice.

Johnny grabs your hand and leads you out the door, slinging his arm over you as y’all walk towards his home.

“Yer not mad, are ye?” and you keep quiet, he has always hated the silent treatment. “Bonnie—” and Simon cuts him off.

“Who was that?” and Johnny looks back to answer. “Her ex-boyfriend. Very first one, wasn’t he, hen?” You dig your elbow into his ribcage and hiss out, “Johnny, you dolt! There is no need for you to be sharing that!”

He laughs and brings your head in to kiss your temple. “I’m jus’ sayin’! Hen, no one out here is worth yer time. Ye cannae be mad at me for speakin’ the truth.” Exhaling, you curl your arm around his waist, going under his shirt to squeeze his waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Guess I’ll just have to fill the void with you,” and Johnny swiftly continues your sentence. “And Ghost.”

Absentmindedly, you nod. “And Ghost.”

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve seen the way he and Ghost shared a calculated look before Johnny pressed another kiss a little closer to your mouth.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you

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littlexscarletxwitch · 10 months

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Hi!!!!! I hope you’re doing well!! I really like the way you write, I was hoping to request a fic with either Wanda or Natasha, or both if you vibe with it, and F! avenger reader with a whole bunch of pining. Maybe they go on a mission and one of them runs into like a sex pollen/ aphrodisiac that really makes them crave their crush and enhances preexisting feelings for that person. You can totally ignore this if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I appreciate you either way!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

paring: wandanat x fem!avenger!reader

tag(s): nsfw, smut with no plot, sex pollen, insatiable r (or at least I tried), wanda and nat doing whatever r needs

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, vaginal fingering (r receiving), mouth riding (r receiving) thigh riding (r receiving), tit sucking, slight blood kink (?), kinda dom!reader, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.2k

note: Half way through writing this fic I was like "Wait, is this supposed to be smut. I mean it's sex pollen so it has to right?" and I'm still not sure but I just went with it lol. AAAAH, my first wandanat fic, I'm so excited you guys. I really hope you guys like it. It was quite a challenge writing a threesome and some parts I feel like they are bad but meh. Just go with it. Thank you, nonnie, for this request. I appreciate you just as much. I hope you like it. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love y'all <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The moment the intoxicating honey-like scent filled your lungs you felt as if your whole body shivered.

Your eyes clouded for a few seconds, your body losing balance as your legs trembled. The whole room felt like it was spinning and your thoughts were getting louder and louder. Images of red hair, tangled limbs and short black nails rushing through your mind.

“Y/n, everything okay?” you heard Steve’s voice through your earpiece, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“You have been silent for quite a while now, detka,” you heard Wanda say.

“You’re still alive, right Y/n?” Nastasha joked.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. All clear, let’s head back,” you said, trying to ignore the way your body was starting to feel different in every conceivable way possible.

As you made your way back to the quinjet you felt your heart rate increasing, you blamed it on the adrenaline of the mission, the nerves of getting out in the field once again and decided not to think too much about it, pushing everything back deep inside of your mind.

“Okay, good job everyone!” Steve congratulated all of you. “Fortunately for us, this Hydra base was empty, but it’s not always going to be like that…” he kept on going with his speech but you weren’t listening anymore.

You took a seat, feeling as if your legs would give out on you any second. It felt as if someone was hammering your poor brain, you felt your skin on fire and you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. You felt as if your senses magnified and you felt everything ten times stronger, no matter how hard you tried to stop feeling anything at all.

“Y/n, you okay?” Clint said while placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you said as you gently shrugged off his hand off your burning skin, not wanting him to notice it.

Okay,” he said, sitting next to you, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

You did the same, in hopes that getting some rest will make it all go away. As you drifted off to sleep, two pairs of eyes were watching your every move. Taking down mental notes of your body language, something they would usually do. But this time they could clearly tell that something was off with you.

“Something is up with her,” the redhead mumbled, squinting her eyes at you.

“Something’s definitely wrong,” the brunette concluded.

“Can you like, check on her?”

“You want me to go through her mind?!” Wanda hissed in disbelief.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act so innocent now, Wan,” the brunette's eyes opened wide in realisation, of course Natasha knew about that. “I know you do it all the time, it’s like your little hobby, isn’t it?” the redhead teased her.

“No, I do not. Those things are private,” Wanda scoffed.

“It’s okay, I’m judging. I mean I think I would also do it if I could,” she had a grin plastered on her face.

“It’s not funny, Nat,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, right. Just do it,” Natasha nudged her.

“Okay, okay,” the brunette mumbled some Russian curses and a second later her eyes were turning red.

“What do you see?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, getting lost in your mind. “Everything’s a blur.”

“What do you mean ‘a blur’? It can’t be right.”

“I’m just telling you what I’m seeing, Tasha,” her brows furrowed as she tried to concentrate even more.

There had to be something that could tell the both of them what was wrong with you. You barely talked to them when you got in the quinjet, that was so not like you. You were always trailing behind them, that was one thing they liked about you. Wherever they went, you followed them like a lost puppy.

They also found it cute that even though everyone was aware you had a thing for the two of them, you never dared to do anything about it. So the two of them would tease you, making you flustered, loving the way your cheeks would go crimson red. They liked you, they really did, that was why Wanda and Natasha were so eager to know what was wrong with you. So they could make you feel better.

“Wait a second…”

“What? What is it? Tell me.”

“I think she’s in pain, but she’s not physically hurt. No, this is deeper, quite strange really. Oh, Nat, I think she’s—”

“Okay, everyone you are free for the rest of the day. See you all at dinner. First round is on me,” Steve said, as the quinjet landed. His loud voice woke you up in the process and distracted Wanda.

You groaned in annoyance, sleeping did nothing for you, everything felt ten times louder and you felt like tearing your skin off your body.

You got up quickly and made your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“The fuck’s wrong with me?” you mumbled to yourself.

You felt your tummy sinking, a fire starting in your lower area. You closed your eyes as the pain became unbearable. But closing your eyes only made it worse somehow. Your mind was filled with thoughts of them, their hands, their lips, their kisses, their scents.

“Fuck,” it came out as a moan.

The only thing you could think about was Natasha and Wanda. And that was when it hit you. You needed them, you always had, but this time you needed them or you felt like you could actually die. They will know what to do, they could help you.

“Detka!” you heard someone banging on your door.

You gasped in relief at the perfect timing.

“Y/n, we know you are not okay. Just let us inside,” the redhead shouted through your door.

Once you open the door, they realise how bad this whole thing was for you. With just one look at you they could tell you were a mess. Your breath was uneven, your cheeks were as red as ever and a thin layer of sweet covered your whole body.

“I, I—,” you tried, but your voice simply wasn’t cooperating.

“We know, baby. We know,” Wanda cooed, as Natasha closed and locked the door behind her.

“This is bad, you shouldn’t be here…”

“It’s okay, malyshaka. We are here to help you.”

“I don’t think I can control myself…”

“We don’t want you to,” the redhead said as she stood behind you.

You could feel her hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“It hurts,” you almost cried. “I need it to stop… I need you… Make it stop,” you said breathlessly.

And that’s all it took for Wanda to connect her lips with yours and for Natasha to kiss your neck. You swear you could come undone just by the feeling of their lips but it wasn’t nearly enough. Moans escaped from your mouth repeatedly, gasping for air.

Somehow the three of you made it to your bed, Wanda’s lips never leaving yours and Natasha firming her grip on your waist. Soon enough the three of you were stripped out of your clothes, and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as soon as you made skin to skin contact with them.

“Fuck,” the word rolled out off your togue onto Wanda’s lips the moment your exposed core touched her thigh.

You felt a wave of pleasure washing over you, clouding all your senses and just focusing on the overwhelming feeling. Your head fell back as it hit Natasha’s stomach and she seized the moment in order to finally have a taste of your lips.

As Natasha took care of your lips, trailing her rough hands all over your torso, you started rocking your hips, Wanda’s thigh hitting the right spots on your core. It soon all became too much and you started riding her thigh at a much faster pace, knowing you were closer to your relief.

The coil inside you finally snapped, a wave of immense pleasure washed over you as you cursed over and over again, their names slipping out of your lips. You were a sweety horny little mess, you had a first taste of them and now you needed more. It was a hunger that was yet to be satisfied.

As you catched your breath, you got up from Wanda’s lap and gently pushed Natasha over the bed.

“What are you—?” she raised a brow at you, confused at your behaviour.

They have studied you before and they knew for a fact that you were no leader, you were a follower. You were also a people pleaser, everybody’s needs coming before your own. So you taking the lead in this situation got her off guard.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before getting on top of her, straddling her head with your thighs.

Without a warning you let your weight fall on top of her, her lips getting immediate access to your cunt. Natasha wasn’t able to resist you, she started licking, sucking, biting, getting moans and whimpers out of your pretty lips.

Her hands found your thighs and gently squeezed, her nails digging into your flesh. You felt Wanda getting behind you, rocking herself onto Natasha’s abdomen. She kissed your neck, leaving love bites all over your sensitive skin.

The room was filled with your moans and whimpers as Wanda and Natasha took care of you. You didn't care how loud you were being, you felt in cloud 9 with the two Russians hitting all the right places.

Your head fell back on Wanda’s shoulder, her hands trailing up your body pinching and massaging your nipples. All while Natasha worked her tongue in and out of you, her nose hitting your clit making your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You felt your second orgasm getting closer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long if they kept on working their magic on you.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you gasped.

Natasha moaned in your cunt as she felt your hips rocking even faster, and wanting to help you out, she did her best work on you. Wanda didn’t trail behind and she kept on teasing your breast and sucking on your skin.

“I’m— I’m—,” a loud moan cut you off as you came undone on Natasha’s lips.

She helped you ride out your high, getting as much of your juice as she could. She moaned at the taste of you, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull getting confirmation you were as sweet as she had always imagined. The moan she let out sent a shiver up your spine, making you squirm.

“How are you, malyshka?” Wanda whispered in your ear, as she helped you get off of Nat.

You throw yourself at her, feeling the fire inside of you starting back again, as your lips seek for hers. You kissed her roughly, biting her lower lip so hard that some blood came out. You tasted her blood on your tongue as you licked the small wound you had caused her.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled on her lips, breathless.

“It’s okay,” she whispered on your lips.

You didn’t mean to be rough with her, but it was out of your control. The fire inside you was too strong to keep it under control.

“I want your fingers… I need your fingers,” you said, reaching for her hand and putting two of her fingers inside of your mouth.

Wanda moaned at the sight before her, she swore she was soaking wet. But right now it wasn't about her, it was all about helping you. Poor Y/n, suffering like a bitch in heat.

Once you were done sucking, you guided them to your aching cunt, letting her take care of you. Even though you had already come two times, you were still as wet and as needy. She easily pushed two fingers inside of you, her eyes closing at how warm you felt.

“She’s so tight, Nat.”

“Really? I guess we’ll have to work on that,” you heard the redhead chuckling, but you were lost in your pleaser. Through your hooded eyes you watched them kiss each other, making you even hotter and wetter. Wanda knew you needed this really bad, so being the lady she was, she quickly picked up her pace. She felt you clenched around her fingers and that only made her thrust her fingers even faster.

Natahsa loved the scene unfolding before her eyes but wanting to take part, she got closer to Wanda, her lips reaching out for the brunette’s breasts, sucking her nipples.

“Shit,” she gasped at the feeling, her finger stopping for half a second.

“Wanda…” you moaned out annoyingly, making Natasha chuckle.

“So– sorry,” she breathed out, getting back to her work.

Your hands travelled up or body, pinching and massaging your own breast, as you watched the redhead sucking violently Wanda’s nipples. Getting whimpers out of the two of you.

“Wan, I’m close,” you whispered.

“We got you, moya lyubov.”

The moment the pet name reached your ears you felt the wave of pleasure washing over you, coming for the third time.

“Fuck!” you manage to say, short of breath.

You felt the fire inside you finally being put out as Wanda’s fingers helped you ride out your high.

“You finally had enough?” Natasha joked.

“Maybe,” you shuddered, still trying to recover from the activity.

“Well, you better have, it’s our turn now.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her, a small smile forming on your lips.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x fem reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha #wanda maximoff x reader x natasha romanoff smut #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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waitmyturtles · 7 months

Text

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 11 -- 1 OUTTA 3 AIN'T BAD

Preamble! I had a HELL of a day yesterday, woof. So if this comes out garbled, y'all will know why. I'll try to keep this short, but... I'm likely lying to myself, let's see.

TW: FORCEBOOK -- I'm going to say a few words about ForceBook below, so if words about ForceBook are not your thing, please move along!

I'm gonna start this post with thoughts on the three main pairs, and then get some last little thoughts out at the end.

a) I have a feeling that I don't need to write THAT much, because the lovelies @lurkingshan (here), @neuroticbookworm (here), and @chicademartinica (here) all covered the top points of this episode nicely: this episode was a BostonNick WIN. On Nick, dear Chica nailed it so hard that I will have to link AND screenshot her m'fucker:

And Boston, BOSTON, MY MAN! MY MAN! MY MAN!

(Nick says the first line below, with Boston saying the second:)

Fuckin' a. There are two reasons why I STANNED BostonNick in this episode.

1) First of all, as you see above, Nick still had to be a tiny bit of a shit. Nick was in Atom's shoes once. Nick remembers the feeling of having feelings for someone who didn't have feelings back for him. So Nick took a little passive aggressive dig at Boston by calling Boston's sex and predilections "terrible."

And Boston shot back at Atom -- and maybe indirectly at Nick -- with his perspective on sex: "[h]ow can you love me after sleeping together just once?"

I've written before (and forgive the foggy mom brain, but I believe @emotionallychargedtowel has also written on this), that the hormonal experience of sex can impact people in incredibly different ways. Some people, like Boston, feel no connection with the person he's slept with after sex; other people, like Nick and Atom, catch feelings. All of it is normal.

What happened in the dialogues that we were privy to earlier in the series vis à vis Nick and Atom was that WE, the audience, heard THEIR perspectives, and the narratives allowed US to contemplate sympathizing for them -- by playing off of a general assumption that an audience would JUDGE people like Boston for having casual sex. Boston's positions on sex (heh) pissed off people like Nick and Atom! So Boston got fuckin' wiretapped and smeared by these dudes.

However: BOSTON REMAINED CONSISTENT, CONSTANT, AND ACCOUNTABLE to his position, AT ALL TIMES, that he wasn't someone who caught feelings after casual sex. I am sure for many sectors of the Only Friends audience, that this may not have been easy to parse, especially considering the very early and popular judgements levied against Boston. (For the record, I never took Boston as a predator, and I established my thoughts early in the series run on this as rhetoric about Boston's "badness" around sex was flying around. I'm a Khai girlie. Boys, girls, and non-binary friends can be playas, too, and deserve to enjoy their sex lives without judgement.)

What I UTTERLY admire about the pace of this series vis à vis BostonNick is that it took its TIME in establishing Boston's AGENCY to be able to LEVY his position on sex SO STRONGLY and CLEARLY, with Nick's support. While much of the series allowed the popular and condemning rhetoric to swirl around Boston, this scene put a fuckin' NAIL in that coffin. I believe this scene said: you can't only listen to one side, the crying, sobbing side of a person who wants another person after a one-night stand. You HAVE to listen to both sides. The hormonal aspect of wanting to be close to your sex partner is valid, but also -- if the other side is talking, you MUST listen to what the other side is SAYING.

Boston was always clear about his position -- and Nick and Atom HAD to take responsibility for their unreasonable demands from Boston after their one-night stands with him; unreasonable, because Boston CLEARLY stated to the both of them that he wasn't a relationship guy, and would not be forced into it. And both of them ignored those statements, and all hell broke loose, TWICE.

2) HOWEVER! Boston realized, after spending more time with Nick than with any other sex partner, and after he lost his friends, that he HAD caught feelings for his fave, his Nick! Remember last week, when I got all mewdy that MONOGAMY might be the dramatic device that the show would use to "redeem" Boston? BLECH.

DAMN, did this episode SPIN THAT AROUND for me. GOD, I LOOOOOOOOOOVED THAT CONVO WITH NICK AND BOSTON ABOUT FIGURING OUT THEIR STATUS!!!!!

Paraphrasing! "I want to spend the next few months loving on you," or whatever Boston says?! FUCK, YES! Nick, all OVER this, setting boundaries, allowing himself TIME and SPACE to figure out what's best for him, with both Dan and Boston! SHIT, MARK PAKIN SHOWED UP! Omg, BostonNick for the win.

My head's spinning, because that was seriously one of the BEST conversations I've seen written in a drama about the consideration of a relationship and a status check. That impressed me as much as Pharm asking Dean for a break in UWMA -- and then Pharm straight up LIVING HIS LIFE, BBQ pork grills and all, without Dean for a few months.

And. Boston was cool with Nick's boundaries and thoughtfulness. Boston knows what he wants, but he's not gonna push Nick into anything. Boston knows time is ticking, but will wait for Nick's answer.

It was so cool to see. My heart was full.

So that pairing, the NeoMark/BostonNick pairing -- SOLID.

b) Moving on! Thanks to @lurkingshan, I got clarity on what the fuq was happening with Sand and Boeing. At first, I thought Boeing was a little SHIT for showing up to Sand and stirring unnecessary drama in his ex's life after getting rejected by Mew. (Mond, though. 🤤)

But, as Shan pointed out to me in my insane day yesterday: Sand has a problem saying no to dudes. (Homey, RELATE.) So like, then they all go back to Ray's place, and Ray KNOWS that Sand has trouble setting boundaries and saying no, because that's what Sand's mom said to Ray, but also, that's the way Sand's been engaging with Ray himself, and Ray will DEF know what will be up if Sand gets closer to Boeing again, and Ray's like, uh, come into my pool so we can nip this in the bud?, but no, we know what Jojo's thinking, so.

I mean, have sex already, you three, chop chop. I see the FirstKhao gworls on my dash not happy about not having a complete episode of SandRay peace, which I get, but also, this continues to reiterate my bleh on Sand, which like -- get a backbone, Sand. You have a literal boyfriend now, and you're still not saying no to dudes? What if Mild strolled in for a foursome? (NO, DON'T TURN THAT DOWN, SAND, DON'T.) But I'm just saying -- maybe listen to a person in your life, like your mom, to set some boundaries, like your roommate. I'm throwing my hands up in the air on this one, but at least we may get our threesome, and, Mond.

c) Okay, last pair! TopMew. For a hot second, I was impressed with Top.

I liked this, ::waves index finger in a circle::, this worked.

But I have decided. I'm done with ForceBook. I just -- please remember the TW, FB girls. I'll get back to TopMew in a second as characters, but this was my first ForceBook show, and it might be my last. Watching them is as exciting to me as breaking down Amazon boxes.

We have seen Mew waffle this whole dang series. (WELCOME BACK, THE ONLY FRIENDS VENGEFUL WAFFLE! HEART YOU, @starryalpacasstuff!)

And there was more Mew waffling, more talking to moms, and Top is just like, I'm gonna peace out, DEUCES, and then, OF COURSE, HE COMES BACK INTO THE KITCHEN, LIKE HE NEVER LEFT THE HOUSE AFTER SAYING HE WOULD (I cackled), and then they're together in bed. And now they'll move in together.

This was a BIT of a storyline ride. But -- and I HAVE TO ADMIT, part of this is my tiredness talking -- I'm just kinda bored of ForceBook at this point. Do I actually get the sense that Top is *excited* about Mew moving in? Do I get the sense that Top and Mew *love* each other? I.... don't! Is it the chemistry between ForceBook? I.... I think so? I think so!

And, so... Mew will try to convince Ray to accept Top in the next episode? I dunno. (Episode 12 previews, we've learned to distrust them.) As much as I want to try to sit here to analyze TopMew at this point, I kinda just wanna throw my hands up in the air and be like, I'll leave these characters to fiction. And I think it's because I was unfortunately spoiled by the FANTASTIC chemistry emanating out of Neo, Papang, Mark, First, and Mond in this episode (MARK! MONNND. PAPANGGGG.).

I have to admit it, and I'm sorry to admit it. ForceBook do nothing for me, acting-wise and chemistry-wise, and I am done struggling with analyzing TopMew. I'll let 'em be.

d) Last thoughts! Bye, Cheum. We haven't had enough of Nonnie in this series, and I wanna see Nonnie as April dump Cheum's ass and break shit in episode 12, the way Nonnie's real-life brother goes and breaks shit on social media. Way to hold no one, including yourself, truthfully accountable, Cheum.

(What in the. I would love a Soonvijarn episode on Jojo's thoughts on Cheum one day.)

Anyway, bye, B.

THAT'S ALMOST IT! Ephemerality? I hope Boston makes a whole bunch of righteous new homies in NYC. This whole series has made me sick and tired of proximate friends, lol. We'd better see Mond suck face with Khao and First. Andddd, bleep, bloop, that's all I got!

HOME BASE NEXT WEEK, FAM!

[EPHEMERALITY SQUAD, second-to-last weekend meta for ya! @slayerkitty (SK... I am so tired, lol), @ranchthoughts, @chickenstrangers, @twig-tea, @neuroticbookworm, @lurkingshan, @distant-screaming, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @thatgirl4815]

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 month

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Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily.

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together. A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him.

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily.

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints.

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie.

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time.

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner.

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,”

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained.

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?”

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl.

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along.

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut.

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!”

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,”

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs.

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-”

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles.

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.”

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen.

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…”

The door opens. The room is pitch black.

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.”

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment.

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.”

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.”

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds.

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.”

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out.

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you.

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages. He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly.

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing.

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft.

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.”

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again.

“Miguel…?”

A beat passes. Silence.

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?!

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips.

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms.

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe.

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart.

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs.

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh.

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh.

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.”

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.”

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff

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h-harleybaby · 1 year

Note

can you do stan,kyle and butters hcs for when their s/o falls asleep on them or cuddling hcs for them please

xxx

Omg thats so fucking cute

Watch that have priority over literally all my requests (now that I'm coming back to this thats a lie I have no brain juice for any of my requests)

This totally isn’t in specific order of who I like most to who I don’t know how to write for

Also I already wrote for Butters cuddling hcs so it's gonna be a lil short than the other ones

Butters

• You and Butters cuddle really often because ya know, he's touch starved and you like physical touch

• So you cuddling him in public (or really anywhere) isn't a surprise to him

• I mean he might turn a little pink but that's just because he thinks you're really pretty

• You falling asleep on him tho???

• He thinks your adorable, and he doesn't have the heart to wake you up

• You falling asleep on him means you really trust him, right?! Now he definitely can't wake you up because what if you never fall asleep on him again

• Butters definitely shushes people if they're being too loud around you while you're asleep, he wants you to sleep >:(

• If you start stirring he's probably gonna rub your back and say go back to sleep IN THE SOFTEST TONE EVER

• He loves when you fall asleep on him in general-

• Anyways, he's always willing to cuddle you and be your pillow

• He might even jokingly start calling himself your pillow and he holds that title proudly!

Kyle

• Kyle's stiff when it happens, but he always eventually gets comfortable

• In his brain he's panicking, and whenever he starts panicking he starts sweating

• A lot

• He really likes cuddling tho, just not much in public

• But I mean at least he's kinda warm so that makes him better to sleep on

• He's actually pretty comfortable to sleep on if you're not under his arms because jesus christ he sweats so much there

• Although he does like it when you sleep on him, his limbs often get really numb without moving so he's not the best to sleep on

• He definitely tries not to wake you up, you probably need the sleep

• He always tries to shake his arm or something without waking you up but he usually ends up doing it anyways

• But did you not sleep last night??? He's gonna bug you about it because you need to sleep more >:((((

• If he's gonna wake you up (if him shaking himself doesn't), he does it really gently because he doesn't wanna startle you or anything

• Cartman definitely makes fun of Kyle for letting you sleep on him, according to Cartman Kyle's whipped for you

• If they end up having the big argument they always have, he's definitely gonna whisper yell as to not wake you up

• And if Cartman doesn't get the memo, he's gonna start throwing shoes at him

• "Shut up fat ass, she's sleeping!" "Why do I care??"

Stan

• Stan also really likes cuddling! But you definitely have to show him how... I don't understand how he doesn't know how BUT HE DOESN'T

• He probably also smells like liquor but it's fine it smells good-

• Falling asleep on Stan tho?? He's a lil weirded out but he's fine with it

• Cartman probably makes fun of him too but he's just ignoring him and using his phone

• He's nervous but not Kyle nervous, in his brain is like "Well, I gotta be careful. It's not that easy to screw this up anyways"

• Stan's probably also fighting the urge to throw up the entire time

• I hc that he got a lot better with the throwing up thing when he's in love... just please don't kiss him till he's ready unless you want it in your face which believe me, YOU DON'T

• He probably has his arms around you with his head on top of yours, who knew this would be so comfy??

• You did, that's who

• Stan's also the type to fall asleep with you and not want to let you go

• He's probably a light sleeper so you trying to get up would wake him

• Doesn't matter if you guys have class or you guys have to go home, he wants you to sleep with him a lil more

• If you say that y'all can cuddle and take a nap together in a bed instead of the floor later it definitely motivates him

• If you can beat his throw up tho, you could probably kiss him awake

• It's actually his favorite way to wake up, it just takes a bit of time to get used to it

#south park x reader #h harleybaby needs help #south park x reader headcanons #south park x y/n #stan marsh x reader #stan x reader #Stan marsh x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle x reader #Kyle broflovski x y/n #butters stotch x y/n #butters stotch x reader #butters x reader #Harley’s anons <33 #harley’s fav posts #harley’s requests!

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queer-n-here · 2 months

Note

hi! It's me again from that Poe request :) I wanted to say thank you very much for doing my request! I loved it so much and you're an amazing writer, keep it up! but if you don't mind again, I have another :")) {you can ignore this by the way if u wanna I don't mind <3}

Same as before with Poe, but reader who very much is affectionate with Poe only than anyone else and only clings onto him and his attention (also reader likes to attach himself to hug Poe from behind when he's talking to someone)

your free to do my request anytime you like! (Keep up the good work!!)

Haiyah, thanks man! It's them compliments that always make my day! And y'all here on Tumblr are like, too nice. I do all the requests I receive y'know, unless they go explicitly against my 'morals' (I sound like Kunikida, hell)

It might take me some time, but if you've sent me a req and I've received it, I'll 100% do it!

Also, MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! NOW IS MY CHANCE TO WRITE FLUFF! YOU SHALL BOW BEFORE MY ABILITY; 'FLUFF ON TOP' MUAHAHAHA-

*Clears throat* Um, sorry. Anyways, here's the fic, hope you like it! It's a little short, though!

Contents: Jealous Clingy Reader x Edgar Allen Poe

Warnings: Fluff, slight (non-existent) mentions of sex.

Fluff HCs for Poe

Poe needs a clingy boyfriend, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

When he's overworking himself in his study, too caught up in his novel to keep track of time, he needs you, who'll go up to him and pick him up from his chair and carry him to the bed for cuddles, making him smile at you reluctantly.

When he's outside, maybe picking up some food for Karl, you go and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling his back up against your chest and putting your chin on his shoulder. He splutters and blushes, hissing that you two are in public, but you remind him what he was talking about before you intervened, and he gets distracted enough to let you enjoy him in your arms.

Sometimes you casually wrap your arms around Poe, even as he's talking to someone else, and bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, nuzzling his neck and planting soft kisses against his pale skin.

Poe acts like he doesn't like it, but even as he tries to pull away from your embrace at times, you can see how red the back of his neck and ears have gotten. It's cute, you think.

And then one day, while you're being even more clingy than usual (if that's even possible) during a date at a park, Poe suddenly raises a hand and waves at someone.

You looked up, squinting to search for the receiver of this greeting, and Poe starts walking away, towards whoever he'd been waving at. You follow, slightly sulking at his sudden shift of attention.

It turns out to be some detective. As Poe introduces you two, you faintly remember that this man, Ranpo, is the very same as the one Poe goes into long rants about.

How... Interesting.

You greet Ranpo with a nod, and Poe strikes up a conversation. Standing just a little behind Poe so that he can't see your expression, you glare down at Ranpo, your face full of black lines.

How dare he interrupt your date?

I mean, sure, it was Poe who reached out, but doesn't Ranpo know how to decline? Does he not have that function in his brain?

But Poe is smiling, talking excitedly and gesturing with his hands the way he does when he's having fun, so you lessen the intensity of your glare, and turn your head away to sulk instead.

It's Ranpo who breaks the conversation in the end, saying that he's out on some 'Agency business' and that he can't stay any longer.

You take Poe back to your shared house, and kiss him till he's aroused and wants to do it.

And that's how your day ends.

I mean, at this point, your clinginess is making Karl's life hell, too.

Whenever the poor raccoon tries to sit on Poe's shoulder, or just go up and get Poe's attention, you're standing right there in his way, arms wrapped around Poe's waist and eyes sharp as they glare at Karl.

How can you be jealous of a raccoon? Make it make sense.

And Poe, damn, he's obsessed with the feeling of your warmth around him, the way you hold him so close it gives him the butterflies. You're so gentle around him, you've got him convinced that he's breakable.

He knows he's the only one who receives this treatment from you. He's seen the way you look at other people, only half glances because they're just not important enough for you to care. He's seen you get angry, too, like that time you two were out to watch a movie and someone tried to cut in line before him. You look scary when you're angry, to put in simply.

And honestly? He loves every moment of it, even if he'd rather jump off a cliff than admit it.

What he doesn't know is that he doesn't need to. You see the way he leans into your touch, even while complaining about how clingy you are. You feel the way he nestles into you, no tension in his body as he can just relax. You perceive how he looks so assured whenever you're there, arms wrapped around him and peppering kisses on his face.

I mean, isn't that the sole reason you do it? Because he loves getting pampered and coddled even if doesn't want to admit it?

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub poe x you #sub poe #sub edgar allen poe #sub edgar allen poe x you #fluff #bsd fluff

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galatially · 5 months

Text

❝𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 "𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧" 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 5K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, exes, angst, smut, soft boi™ logan, exes to tentative lovers

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — it is time to spread the agenda of logan howlett and his influence on my brain rot for most of my nerdy life. shout out to lizzy mcalpine for making "ceilings" and having me spiral over it for a year!

also also, y'all, i know. i'm horrible at deadlines. but it's what y'all love about me lol

also also first post of 2024!

as always, lovely dividers by @firefly-graphics

Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into his skin, your fingers both light and firm.

“You have so many scars.” He grunted in response. “When you tell me, am I going to have to set a house on fire?”

Logan laughed. “And why would you do that, bubba?”

“To defend your honor, of course.” You laid across his back to whisper in his ear, the warmth of your breath making the hairs on his body erect. “Can’t have you being the hero all the time. My shoulders are strong, too.”

“…listening? Logan? Logan!”

He blinked, his vision focusing on Ororo’s concerned gaze.

“What’d you say?”

A soft smile graced her lips. “I asked where you were going.”

Logan hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Ororo hummed. “Would this have to do with a certain someone that lives in the Canadian mountainside?” He didn’t answer as he threw the bag in the back of his truck. “Do you think that’s the best thing for her right now?”

“I just want to make sure she’s okay, Munroe.”

“And then what?” Ororo crossed her arms. “What are you going to do when you see that she’s fine?”

He threw her a hard glare. “I just want to see her. Is that so fuckin’ wrong?”

Her features softened. “You had another dream about her.”

Logan turned back towards the garage. “What does it matter? I just need to see her, Munroe.”

She held her hands up. “I can’t stop you. I just worry that you’re about to uproot this woman’s life because you can’t let her go.”

He took in a sharp breath. She wasn’t wrong; he’d spent the better part of six years raking himself over the coals at how he ended things. If he allowed them, the memories of you screaming and your brown eyes red and puffy from crying haunted him more than any battle he’d ever been in.

“Look, if you’re so hellbent on going to see her, then go. You’re an adult and you have to live with your decisions.”

He walked around to the driver’s side of his truck. “Tell our fearless leader that I’m goin’ out of town and I’ll be back when I can.”

Ororo nodded and waved, a sad smile on her lips.

He shouldn’t fucking be here.

The second Logan crossed the border, he could think of nothing else but to get to you. Thirty-eight hours and he didn’t sleep for any of them. No, his mind’s eyes played memories of you: how soft your skin was, that fig and jasmine perfume you loved. The silken warmth of your cunt. He fucked his fist like a horny fourteen year old in that dingy hotel in BC. If he focused hard enough, he could get the tone of your voice just right — those breathy, pleading moans that you let out only for him. He could get lost in the memories, pretend that he was beside you in your bed, other people be damned.

But that was thirty-eight hours ago.

Now, here he was. His hands gripped the steering wheel of his truck until his knuckles went white, silently cursing himself for even showing up. He hadn’t seen you in, what? Six years? Who the hell was he to appear on your doorstep after the shit he pulled?

His eyes scanned the forest surrounding your home. He hated that you lived so far away from immediate civilization. It took you thirty minutes to get into the nearest town for work and you essentially lived off the grid. When he’d happened upon your home that fateful October evening, he was amazed that you had a working phone, let alone Wi-Fi. Whenever you crossed his mind, he thought the worst. He used to beg you to get an apartment in the city, but you always refused.

“I’m not ready to let get of this place just yet.” You looked up at him from drawing circles on his bare bicep. “Unless you want to give up city life and live out here with me?”

He didn’t answer; even back then, Logan knew that he was bound to hurt you. His refusal to give you more than idle pleasure was a point of contention for you both. Jean always said that he could be hard to talk to because if he wasn’t picking a fight, he was evading questions. But unlike Jean, you weren’t one to back down. When he’d divert or blatantly ignore your questions, you stood your ground. You didn’t give him the chance to distract you with sudden affection. You wanted to resolve issues as soon as they were made present.

It’s something Logan both loved and hated about you.

“Fuck this.” He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. He blew out a determined breath and opened his car door, his feet moving before he changed his mind. As he got closer to the house, he noticed the red “SOLD” sign on the lawn. His chest thrummed with…pain? Remorse? Fear?

What would he do if you left?

He was on your porch now, his heart hammering against his ribcage, fighting to get to you. He raised his hand to knock on the door as it was opening, being met with the face he’d been dreaming about for half a decade.

Your brows were furrowed in confusion. “James.”

His hazy memory didn’t do you justice; your eyes seemed more intense than the last time he’d seen you. You were dressed in an oversized t-shirt — eerily familiar to an old Pink Floyd shirt he thought he’d lost years ago — and shorts barely peeking out from under the hem of the shirt. Your skin smooth and begging to be touched. Your dark coils were thrown into a bun, pieces falling out in various places. You weren’t outwardly upset but you could school your features better than anyone he knew. Your body was half-facing him and half-facing the tiny hall that led to the inside of the house. There was a solemnity to your face that he didn’t recognize.

A voice in the furthest part of his mind whispered that it was because of him.

“Y’know you’re the only person that still calls me James?”

Your features flattened. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just passin’ through Edmonton and ended up here .”

“You drove for three days on a whim?”

“I was on my way back from handlin’ somethin’,” he said, the familiar finality in his tone. His gaze went past your shoulders and into the darkness of your home. “Have you eaten yet?”

You blinked. “Not yet.”

He nodded, his blue eyes back on you. “Can I come in? I’ll make you somethin’.”

You should’ve said no. Should’ve slammed the door in his face and went back to packing up the rest of your bedroom. But instead, you moved to the side and let Logan inside. He thanked you and walked inside, toeing off his shoes, and heading back towards the kitchen like he’d been doing it forever.

You looked out at his old, rusted truck one last time before closing the door and going to the kitchen. From the tiny hallway, you could hear him humming to himself; an old song his mother used to sing to him, he’d told you once. He’d put his hair up into a bun at the top of his head, a few strands falling to frame his face. His tan skin, the same skin that had scars that even his mutation couldn’t heal, glowed under the dull glow of your kitchen light. You used to always tell him beautiful he was, but he’d wave you off in that Logan way, telling you that no one was as beautiful as you.

You leaned up against the doorjamb. “Last I heard, you were living in New York. You teach at some fancy school?”

Logan chuckled, mincing up onions and garlic. “I wouldn’t say teach.”

“So, what, you get paid to hang out with fourteen year olds in upstate New York? Sounds kind of sketchy.”

“I teach hand to hand combat,” he glanced over at you, “the kids that I teach it to are like me. Mutants.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I never liked that word; mutants. They make you all sound like failed experiments.”

“Aren’t we?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “Far from it.”

Logan nodded, more to himself than your declaration, and moved to face the stove. He dumped his vegetables in a small pan to cook. He reached to the left of him — muscle memory, you reasoned — and grabbed a jar of maize. “You’d like it. New York.”

“You think?”

Logan lifted a shoulder. “Be better than livin’ all alone in the mountains.”

You let out a hum. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Where you headed?”

“I don’t know yet,” your eyes dropped to your fidgeting hands, “I didn’t think that I’d be able to sell the house, actually.”

“Why did you? Sell?”

“You know why,” you said, your voice lowered to a whisper. “I held onto it for her and when she died, I didn’t want to stay.”

“‘M sorry I didn’t reach out. Your mother was a remarkable woman.”

You made a bitter sound. “Yeah, well, you’re good at leaving when the wind blows.”

He pursed his lips, turning around to turn off the stove. “You got any plates or bowls left out?”

“James, I —”

“’S fine, Y/N. Bowls?”

You blew out a breath and walked over to the cupboard beside the stove and grabbed two plates, handing them over to Logan. Your knuckles brushed up against his but you kept your eyes on the oak wood of the cupboard.

“Thanks.”

You rushed out a hushed “you’re welcome” and moved back to stand in front of the sink. The air was tense and you had to fight the impulse to pull Logan to you and let him consume you, if only for tonight. You tightened your hands into fists, feeling the bite of your nails as they embossed your skin.

Logan handed you a plate and walked to your tiny kitchen table in the far corner of the room. He sat in his chair: close enough to the back door and facing towards you. Where before it was to smile and regard you with tenderness, now there was unease in his eyes.

You’d forgotten that you didn’t ask what he was making, so the spread in front of you gave you pause: it was your mother’s polenta recipe. “You remembered.” The words came out airy, surprised.

“You’re the last thing that I’d ever forget, bubba.”

“Don’t do this, Logan.” You set your spoon down. “Just…don’t.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, either!” You pinched the bridge of your nose. You pushed your plate away and looked away from your former lover.

What were you doing? He showed up, out of the blue, making you dinner…to do what? The question had been clawing at you the entire visit. Why now? What could Logan possibly want from you after all of these years?

Logan leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking in protest against his broad frame. You kept wanting to speak, break the tense silence, but you couldn’t find the words. Looking at him, he seemed too still. Like a marble statue molded to the chair, anchoring him to this room with you.

“I fucked up, bubba.”

Your brows canted. “What do you mean?”

“That night…the last night that I was here, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. Made promises that I didn’t know if I could keep.” One of his large hands scrubbed down his face, his eyes still on the ceiling. “I told you that I’d leave everythin’ behind to stay.”

Your bottom lip quivered. You remembered; he’d come here that night more impassioned than usual. His hair wind-swept, his cheeks wind-whipped and red, he pulled you in for one of the most passionate kisses you’d ever had in your life. A clash of tongue and teeth against fleshy lips and curves of skin that left you a shaking mess beneath the thin sheets of your bed. You laid in his arms, running your fingers along the lines of his collarbone, when you’d asked if he’d stay. You weren’t begging, didn’t even lower your voice to a low hush to persuade him. You were as direct as you always were, determined to know where you stood in the universe that was Logan Howlett.

“You lied.”

His eyes, darkened with sorrow, finally found yours. “I lied.”

You blinked back tears. “Why? If you knew that you weren’t going to make space for me in your life, why make me believe you would? I uprooted my life for you, Logan! I was going to sell my mother’s house and ride off with you into the sunset! And for what? For you to leave me alone?”

“I couldn’t take you with me then, Y/N. Somethin’…came up.”

“I know, Ororo told me.” Logan shot forward, his eyes wide. “She came and found me two years ago. She said that there was an incident and that you almost died. Said that you kept murmuring my name, telling them to make sure that I was safe.”

He scoffed. “Always meddlin’, that woman.”

“At least she cared enough about you to come find me.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re walkin’ a thin line, bubba.”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore, Logan.” You stood up from the table and opened the back door. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get. Out,” you hissed. “Thank you for making me dinner, but I want you to go.”

Logan crossed his arms, throwing you a hard look. “No.”

Your nostrils flared. “James, get —”

You’d forgotten how fast he was. He was out of the chair and in front of you in an instant, your next retort dying on your tongue. One of his large hands cupped your chin and the other slammed the door shut. His blue eyes roamed your face, searching for something.

Though he towered over you, hell, he overpowered you, you didn’t back down. “I want you to leave.”

“I’m not leavin’. Not until I say what I have to say.”

Your eyes brush along the seams of his lips, lingering, before meeting his smoldering gaze again. “Then say what you need to say and go. I’m done with this.”

Logan’s fingers gripped your chin harder, his gaze hard. “We’re not done talkin’, bubba.” There was an intensity to the nickname as it left his mouth that made your thighs clench together. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing up against yours.

You gripped the sleeve of his flannel, your pulse fluttering in your ears. The hand that had closed the door moved to the small of your back and pushed you into his pelvis. You gasped at his hardened erection against your thigh.

“You can yell at me, you can fuckin’ hit me if you need to.” He rested his forehead against yours. “But don’t tell me to leave. I don’t know where to go if I’m not with you.”

“You haven’t had me in years, James,” you said, roughly. You knew that he caught the desperation in your tone, your words. You tipped your head back and lifted up on tiptoe to press your lips to his. When you finally noticed that he hadn’t returned the kiss, you started to pull back, a pit growing in your stomach.

“I’m —”

His arm tightened around your middle to keep you still. His mouth molded against yours, hungry and desperate.

You pawed at his flannel, helping him shrug out of it. Logan cupped his hands under your thighs and lifted, wrapping your legs around his waist. You sucked a bruise along the curve where his neck and collarbone meet, relishing in the hiss he let out.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He pulled back, his gaze intense. “I need to say this before anythin’ else happens between us.” Your brows creased. “I hurt you. I hurt you and it fuckin’ killed me, Y/N, and I’m sorry.”

Your breath caught. You didn’t know Logan enough to know his favorite color or his mother’s name, but you knew enough about him to know that he didn’t apologize. Didn’t matter if he was wrong or right, he just didn’t. But the man before you wasn’t the man you knew six years ago. Now that you were looking at him, you could see it all: the dark circles, the stiffness of his body that only came from being nervous.

Despite your assertive nature, you didn’t hold grudges. Those types of feelings need to constantly be fed into and that was energy you couldn’t spare. Not even for men that you fell in love with too quickly.

You put your lips to his again. He mirrored your movements and carried you to your bedroom. He sucked a bruise onto the skin between your ear and shoulder, making you let out a whimper. You ground your hips against his hardened erection.

“Fuck, honey,” he hissed.

“I need you inside of me, James.” You nipped at his earlobe. “Please.”

He kissed you, long and hard, before helping you out of your thin shorts. His thick fingers glided through your puffy folds, a guttural groan leaving his throat.

“You this wet for me, Y/N?”

You mewled in response, your hips moving against his digits, begging for pressure on your swollen pearl.

He gulped, his eyes hungrily tracing over your lust-drunken expression. His cock was straining almost painfully against the denim of his jeans but he couldn’t stop staring at you. He drew the pad of his thumb along the curves of your parted lips, sucking a breath when the tip of your tongue barely swept against the skin.

He dipped the digit between your lips, watching with rapt pleasure as you suckled and moaned around it. He groaned and curved his free hand around the base of your throat. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You shuddered. “I can be.”

“Oh, yeah?” He suckled a love bite onto your skin. “You think you can be mine tonight?”

You nodded eagerly.

Logan chuckled and threw you over his shoulder, taking what seemed like three large steps into your bedroom and tossed you lightly onto the bed. He took hold of your face and slotted his lips over yours, licking deeply into your mouth.

You pawed and pulled at his flannel, clumsily helping him out of it while trying to keep kissing him. He hummed against your lips and worked your thin shorts down your thighs before ripping them down the middle. The cool air against your bare cunt gave you gooseflesh. Your hands moved to work at his belt buckle as his own pulled at the shirt you wore.

“Was wonderin’ where this went.”

You chuckled. “You barely wore it.” You made a triumphant noise upon getting his pants undone and to the floor, looking up at him from beneath your thick, dark lashes.

He wanted to devour you. One of his big paws cupped your face and he ground out, “Are you sure, bubba?”

You took his heavy cock in one of your hands, moving up and down the length of it. You smirked at his sharp breath as you eased down to your knees. Without breaking eye contact, you took him into your mouth, a low groan vibrating against your tongue.

“Jesus,” he gripped your curls into one fist and threw his head back, “just like that, sugar.”

You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, the tip of your nose pressing against his pubic mound. The hand that wasn’t giving gentle squeezes to his thigh when to massage his heavy balls.

A low groan, bordering a growl, tumbled past Logan’s lips. “You have to move, baby. ‘M dyin’.”

You moved your hand from his balls to curl around the base of him, slowly working in tandem with your mouth. You moaned around his cock, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth. You lightly scraped your teeth along the length of him. Logan hissed and gripped the sides of your face and started fucking your face. Your eyes were rimmed red, tears streaming down your face, and yet he looked at you with the reverence reserved for altars and gods.

“‘M cummin’…’m —”

He came in thick ropes into your mouth, his hips stuttering as he was coming down. His hands fell from the sides of your face to rest them on the tops of his thighs.

You pushed off of Logan with a faint “pop” and sat back against your calves. Your eyes trailed up and down Logan’s frame; you’d forgotten how big he was. Broad shoulders and back, large hands, thick, corded muscles. He could sometimes be as foreboding as he looked.

Then, post nut clarity smacked the shit out of you.

“Shit.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, me, too.”

“No. I mean, shit like we shouldn’t have done that.” You pushed yourself onto your feet. “Where’s my shirt?”

“You mean my shirt?”

You ignored his jibe and scanned the room for the garment. One of his hands shot out and pulled you onto his lap.

“I can smell ya, sweetheart.”

Your brows creased for a few seconds before you understood what he’d meant. You gulped, your chest rising and falling in hard pants. “Doesn’t matter, James. This was a mistake.”

His eyes — those intelligent, ever-searching eyes — darkened, a hunger in them that you hated that you missed. “Was it? What’s so wrong about two people findin’ each other again?” His thumb swept along your bottom lip. “‘M all yours to do whatever you need, baby.”

Your tongue darted out, barely pressing against his skin before his mouth claimed yours. He eased you onto your back as his hand traversed the expanse of your torso. His hands pawed and kneaded at your breasts, rubbing and twisting your nipples into stiff peaks. Your back canted towards his touch. His mouth suckled at your right nipple, his other hand still playing at the other.

“James,” you pleaded.

“What, bubba?” He chuckled darkly. “Use your words.”

Every word that flashed in your mind died in your throat. Only incoherent pants and groans left you. Logan switched to your left breast and one of his free hands cupped your mound. Your eyes screwed shut. The rough pad of his thumb brushed up against your clit, sticky with your slick.

“So wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

Your hips bucked and he rubbed the bundle of nerves again. Slow, tortuous swipes that sent shocks to your system and tightened your belly with need. Just before the coil snapped, his cock drove into you. Tears fell from your eyes and a choked gasp ballooned in your chest.

“Fuck, honey, s’good.” Logan’s voice was hoarse and desperate. He fucked into you like a man possessed; his big hands gripped your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. He moved one hand to curl at the base of your throat. Vignettes of memories past played in your mind’s eye and you let out a ragged keen, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. His name passed your lips. “Yeah, baby?”

You gripped one of his forearms. “‘M close.”

Rough skin swept across your clit. “Let go for me, bubba. C’mon.”

Your back canted as a guttural moan ripped from your throat. Logan pulled you into his chest, whispering my good girl and I’m here in your ear as you came down. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. He’d never left you behind six years ago and this was just another evening for the two of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you buried your face into his chest.

“Hey.” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate this,” your voice quivered, “I hate that you came back. I hate that I still — ” You shook your head. “We shouldn’t have done that, James.”

Logan cupped your face in his hands. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anythin’ you ask me to, Y/N, you have to know that.”

“Do I?”

He pulled out of you and gathered you in his arms as he tucked you both into bed. His deep, even breaths reverberated up your spine. You sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“I never meant to hurt you. Hurtin’ you was the last thing that I wanted to do and there’s nothin’ I could do to fix that.” He pressed his lips to the nape of your neck. “Just…talk to me. Please.”

“You broke me, Logan, do you know that? I broke all of my rules for you and it broke me. I was already grieving my mother and you made me grieve you when I never had you to begin with.”

“I know,” he rasped.

“Do you?”

“When Storm came to visit you, she wasn’t jokin’. I almost fuckin’ died.” He ran the backs of his fingers up and down your spine, his tone faraway. “I was slippin’ away, could barely focus on anythin’ in front of me for too long. Then suddenly, your face was the only thing I saw. I could picture you so clearly, down to the micro expressions that I didn’t even realize I’d paid attention to.” He rested his chin atop your head. “I’d made sure that I never thought of you too often or I’d leave everythin’ behind to come back to you.”

“And yet, here you are.” Your voice wobbled at the end. “You broke the one rule you shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well, rules are meant to be broken. I don’t regret showing up. Even if this is the only thing I could get, I’d fuckin’ do it all over again just to see you, bubba.”

You turned over to face him, your brown eyes hard. “Yeah, but bodies weren’t, James. You shouldn’t have to nearly die to decide that I’m worth seeing again.”

“You really love half-listenin’, don’t you?” He held your chin between his fingers, lifting your eyes to his. “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since I left, Y/N. The only reason that I didn’t keep in touch was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to see me. Like you said, bodies weren’t meant to broken.”

“Neither were hearts,” you murmured.

He nodded. “And would yours consider lettin’ me back in? It’s selfish to ask, I know, but I don’t want to let you go again, bubba.”

You threaded your fingers between his. “I want to. But how will I know if you’ll stay this time, James? What’s changed in the last six years?”

Logan brought the back of your hand up to his lips. The warmth in his eyes, while not unfamiliar, made your breath catch. For a split second, you remembered that he could hear your heartbeat fluttering madly in your chest, your pulse against his forearm.

“When do you leave for New York?”

Your brows knitted together. “I should be done packing in a few days. Why?”

He pulled one of your legs over his hip, laughing when you sucked in a breath. “We’ll go into town tomorrow, pawn all the stuff you’re not usin’ anymore, and pack up the rest in the truck. We’ll make a trip out of it.”

“And where would we go after that? I’m not living in a boarding school.”

“I have a place of my own, thank you very much,” he said, smirking, “it’s not much but it’s mine. It could use a…softer touch, I think.”

You sat up on your elbow. “Yeah?”

“‘M gettin’ old, bubba. Like, obviously not so much physically, but mentally? I’ve seen wars, watched people that I care about die. Walked away when I should’ve stayed.” He threaded his fingers through your free hand. “I’m sayin’ all this to say that, if you’ll have me, I want to stay.”

You hummed, looking down at your joined hands. If tonight proved nothing else, you and Logan were tethered each other for better or worse. There would never be a moment where you wouldn’t think of each other and that scared you. But if you knew nothing else, you knew that you loved him. You loved James Howlett.

“Will you want to stay? I’m not about to uproot my life just for you to leave me again.”

He pulled you close, putting his forehead to yours. “The worst mistake I’ve ever done is leave you behind Y/N Y/L/N. I should’ve told you that I loved you five years ago.” You gasped. “I love you, bubba, and I regret everyday not that I never told you.”

“Say it again.”

He took your face in his hands and smiled, the peach hue of the sun warming his face. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I’ve loved you for the past six years and I will never stop lovin’ you.”

Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. You wanted him to say these words, waited for them for over half a decade. But they were…heavier than you anticipated. Though your own confession sat on your tongue, too much clung to them; the last fight you had, your mother dying shortly after and how you resented him even more for leaving you alone at a time like that. More than anything you hated that you cared about him so quickly just for him to leave.

“You don’t have to say it back yet.” Logan smiled some. “Five years is a long time to grieve something.”

You put a hand to his cheek. “You know that I want to, though, don’t you?”

“I know,” he kissed you again, “and we’ll get you there. One day at a time.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — given the fact that i haven't written in literal months, y'all have no idea how happy i am to have churned this out. happy 2024!

#galatially #Annie's1KKittiesWritingChallenge #touch me like nobody else does #logan howlett #logan howlett x black!reader #wolverine #wolverine x black!reader

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restinslices · 4 months

Note

Ahhhh after some thought I’ll choose the earthrealm men with a lovey dovey s/o 👉🏻👈🏻

back to requests a mere 6 days after saying I was gonna take a break. Was that post a little unnecessary? Yes, but I didn’t want anyone to get mad at me for not posting everyday and not getting to requests immediately. ANYWAY, back like the flu.

Johnny Cage

Johnny “Loves Attention” Cage is having the best time

Do y'all remember how much of a cornball this man was in the game? He has no shame

So a significant other who also has no shame? He's getting on one knee as soon as possible

He tries to out cornball you

He loves it all. The stupid nicknames, the cuddling, the gifts, the giggling, all the adoration, he's just in love

Definitely returns the favor. If you buy him smth, he's buying you smth (let's ignore that debt), you give him a nickname so he gives you one. It goes on and on

All this lovey dovey shit might exhaust some people. Johnny is not some people.

The nicknames are probably his favorite part. He makes the most atrocious nicknames up because you won't be upset

Some real dumb shit like Oogy Boogy Sweetie Weetie Cutie Patootie Kissy Face- yeah all that shit is one nickname. Why? Because it's funny to him and you'll laugh

The type to get y'all dumbass matching shirts

“If found return to stupid” “I'm stupid”

Those type of shirts

Everyone hates you because it becomes a competition of who can be the most corny. It's tortuous for anyone near you

Cannot express enough how much this man enjoys the attention you give him. If one day you decided to ignore him as a joke, he'd actually be so sad and notice immediately

He just adores having a corny lovey dovey partner. The best thing to happen to him.

Kenshi Takahashi

He doesn't hate it but he definitely needs a breather sometimes

Having a lovey dovey partner isn't terrible to him. All the touching and nicknames and being spoiled is definitely cute to him, but being lovey dovey also means you're on him a lot. Kenshi doesn't give me huge extrovert vibes so I think because you're so extreme(?) that there's times when he needs a break

He thinks it's adorable though. He likes feeling wanted so he likes how outwardly you are with your love

Idk if he likes all the nicknames though. I can see him easily cringing if you go overboard

Idk how he'd feel about you spoiling him. He doesn't hate it but he feels like everytime you give him a gift, he has to give you one and he ain't got that shit on him. His own thoughts are running him dry

When his social battery is recharged I think he'd like how physical and sweet you are

He enjoys how loved you make him feel. He's just not sure how to respond sometimes. I can see you saying something really corny and although he thinks it's cute, his brain doesn't move fast enough and he ends up just staring at you

He rolls his eyes a lot too so it can give the appearance that he's annoyed by you but it's definitely not that

You want some corny shit he'll definitely like? Matching jewelry. He'll eat it up like it's a cookie

Also draw over his tattoos. He loves it

Loves the corny shit his brain just legit shuts off sometimes

Kung Lao

Like Johnny, he enjoys the attention

Idk if he necessarily enjoys all the corny things. I don't get a strong feeling from him. Maybe it depends on the day

Likes the attention and spoiling but all the corny nicknames and shirts and just being a total sap makes him a little uncomfortable at times

Once again, it depends on the day. Sometimes he's all for it and sometimes he's like “let's calm down for today”

Gets you a matching hat but without all the sharp shit because he doesn't trust you with sharp objects

He's a mix of Johnny and Kenshi tbh

He refuses to wear those corny matching shirts. You'll have to kill him

That applies to other things too

Those corny nicknames Johnny would make up? He'd prefer a beating from a serious Spiderman

“Aw my Snookie Wookie-” “I'm gonna shoot myself right here right now. Please stop”

It's cute and he acknowledges that it's how you show love but certain things just ain't gonna work with him

Especially in public certain things just won't work with him because he has an ego and thinks certain things will make him look weird. It's giving insecure teen

Don't doubt his love for you though. He loves his little sap. Just take it a bit slow

At some point a switch would flip and he'd go from being embarrassed to thinking “wow, I'm so great my partner is willing to look silly in front of others!”

Now he feeds into your corny bullshit

A win is a win

Raiden

I fully believe him and Liu Kang are romantics, therefore he loves it

He gets flustered easily so tons of affection makes his face go red and all that cute shit

His brain also short circuits like Kenshi's. He's so bad at pretending he's not flustered

“Are you blushing?” “...” “...” “...” “Raiden?” “Of course not”

Likes the consistent physical contact

Spoiling him also makes him short circuit. He's trying to think of how to thank you but all that comes out is “oh!”

Adores you just as much as you adore him

He likes gift giving. And idk mean just jewelry, I mean “you got me all these gifts so I'm gonna bring you a bunch of produce and hey, maybe we can cook later”

We saw him collecting cabbages like Cabbage Man from ATLA in the beginning of the game, he gotta still have the hook up

Loves receiving cheek kisses

Man is so weak in the knees. Kung Lao can yell “STAND UP!” all he wants. That shit is not happening

Play with his hair. Once again, weak in the knees

He's having a great time. Sure he's easily embarrassed but it's not like “omg, you're being weird. Stop”. It's more of a “I love this but I feel like everyone's looking”

You two are super lovey dovey but not as obnoxious as you and Johnny. Johnny is like “you can't out corny me” and Raiden is just tryna vibe and love on you since you love on him

All the embarrassment he feels is so worth it to him

Liu Kang

A romantic so all that lovey dovey shit? Heaven to him

Liu Kang has so much love to give and he's never allowed to share it because his life is ass in every timeline

So a partner that adores him and shows him how much they adore him? Did the Elder Gods hand craft you for him?

He's honestly a mix of everyone. He wants to love you all the time like Johnny, he loves how much you love him like Kenshi, he loves how much you outwardly adore him like Kung Lao and he's a huge romantic that loves how much time you spend together like Raiden

He's so love deprived so he loves everything you wanna do

Matching shirts, jewelry, socks, whatever the fuck? Absolutely.

Spoiling him with random shit? He'll take it all

Telling him how much you love him all the time? Yes.

Giving him the dumbest and corniest nicknames? He'll take that too

He's also lovey dovey so the feeling is very much mutual

Enjoys quality time so you wanting to be on his hip is very much welcomed

You're a breath of fresh air since you're so kind and loving to him. Remember he has all the memories of the past timeline, then this timeline gets fucked up. He's used to constant smoke and destruction so someone being so nice and sweet to him and relaxing with him is heavenly to him

Doesn't matter how corny it is. It's all he wants

Real quick, two things. Firstly I wanna make more MK1 intros so y’all should give me ideas. Secondly I think it would be fun if we as a unit made an MK1 oc. I’d make polls, you’d vote on certain things and then we use the same results but tinker it to our individual liking. For example maybe we know they’re Edenian but their gender is up to you. It’d be like a bunch of variants. A Multiverse of Madness if you will.

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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months

Text

Shades of Pink

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, jealous/possessive Matt, underage drinking, Matt being a fool

a/n: Thank you all for being patient with me! My brain has not been feeling up to writing lately but I managed to get the next few chapters of this fic planned out! I have a couple more written so the plan is to post an update for this fic every 3 weeks. I hope that's frequent enough for y'all :)

(Beautiful divider by @firefly-graphics!)

w/c: 5.8k

Matt’s skull rattled as the machine in front of him gave a shriek, metal grinding on metal. Gritting his teeth, he ran a hand over the machine’s interface, growing more frustrated when the start button was rendered functionless.

The telling chime of an error message echoed in the damp basement and taunted him. “Fuck!” He cursed, kicking the reinforced frame in anger. Great, now he had no clean clothes AND his foot hurt.

Growling in irritation, he yanked open the door and began grasping handfuls of soaking wet clothes and dropping them into his hamper with nauseating splats.

The suds from his detergent quickly settled into a film over his skin, actively worsening his mood. Setting his jaw, he hefted the rapidly dampening laundry bag over his shoulder to trudge back to his room.

Each step sent shockwaves of tension through his frame, he was freefalling into overstimulation at this point. By the time he reached his floor, every cell in his body was rigid, trying desperately to hold back the rage-induced sobs building in his chest. Fumbling with his key, he managed to push the door open with a slam—startling Foggy and, unexpectedly, you.

“Hey man, we were about to come find you so we could grab lunch. You, uh, you ok?” Foggy asked skeptically, but Matt ignored him. Instead, focused on your soft footsteps from the edge of his bed to his stiff form in the doorway.

“What happened, trouble?” The name suggested you were hoping to lighten his mood, but he could practically taste the concern rolling off your skin.

“Washing machine broke. Didn’t feel like dealing with it, so…” Matt shrugged, biting his cheek fiercely to avoid becoming emotional in your presence.

You tutted in sympathy, reaching to his shoulder to slip the bag of laundry from his clenched fist. “Well, after lunch I can drive you to my place and we can do laundry there, if you want?” The warmth of your fingertips over his torso sent a shudder down his spine. “Matt..?”

“Yah, that…that sounds good. Let’s, uh, let’s do that.” Matt responded lamely, shuffling from foot to foot as he willed his tense body to slacken.

“I’m sorry your day started so poorly. Do you want a hug?” Your voice was soft, your posture hesitant as you asked Matt a question he didn’t know he needed to hear. Nodding miserably, he collapsed against you.

Your soft hands wrapped around his chest, pressing upwards between his shoulder blades with delightful pressure. Matt melted into the embrace, feeling the frustration flood out of his body with each of your inhales. Threading one hand into his hair, you scratched lightly, eliciting a dreamy sigh from him. Giggling in response, you squeezed him tightly before drawing away, much to his chagrin.

You chuckled, tracing a thumb over the deep furrow between his brows. “Wow, that bad?”

Face falling, Matt’s mouth fell open in a mixture of embarrassment and horror. Shaking his head profusely, he stammered. “N-no, not at all, I just—“

Lightly shoving his shoulder, you laughed brightly. “I’m kidding, trouble. It seems like you needed that. So…” Turning back to face Foggy (who Matt had forgotten was there) you smiled. “Lunch?”

“Foggy if you spill that in my car, you’re banned. You hear me? Excommunicated from my vehicular sanctuary.” You groused, glaring at the blond who was precariously balancing a large milkshake on his knees in your rear view mirror.

Blushing, Foggy quickly moved the cup to a more sturdy location as he finished his burger. “Yes ma’am.” He gave a mock salute, making you abandon your scowl for a satisfied smirk. Matt was smiling beside you, sipping his coffee carefully to avoid the same threats as his roommate.

The three of you were seated comfortably in your car, bags of both Matt’s and Foggy’s laundry stashed in the trunk as you inched closer to the building you lived in.

Your loft was hidden away in the back corner of a bland building about 8 blocks from Campus. The worn red brick stood about 15 stories tall, complete with the paint-dripped doors and crooked windows that one comes to expect when seeing cheap student housing.

The inside was drafty and humid, the insulation having rotted away through decades of storms and frat-style ragers. The walls were far from soundproof, given they were about 90% white paint, which had encouraged you to begin seeking refuge in Matt and Foggy’s room whenever you needed to study or, honestly, a moment of peace on a weekend.

Which is how you found yourself toting the two boys back to your spacious yet slightly dingy loft which, amazingly, had its own functional washer and dryer. And, thankfully, a really comfy couch given that Foggy hadn’t done laundry once since move in.

“How on earth have you made it this far in life without doing a single load of laundry?” Matt panted between giggles as Foggy’s face scrunched with a pout as he shuffled over to the washer.

“I don’t know! My mom always did it.” Matt failed to hold back a snort and Foggy crossed his arms. “It’s not that funny, Murdock!”

“Do your siblings know how to do laundry?” You raised an eyebrow at him, not even trying to keep your smile contained. Matt was in stitches beside you and his laughter was contagious.

“I mean yah, but—“ Matt guffawed and Foggy sank into his seat, sullenly glaring at the pair of you. “I hate you guys. So much for friendship.”

A bout of giggles burst out of you. “Don’t worry, Fog. We’ll show you how. It’s really not that hard, just need to know a few things.”

You opened the top of the washer. “I’m assuming you don’t have detergent then?” Taking Foggy’s indiscernible mutter as an affirmative, you pulled out your own.

“That’s fine, I’ll loan you some, but I expect you to buy your own next time, Nelson. This shit ain’t cheap.” You pointed a finger at him and he put his hand up in promise.

“Scout’s honor.”

Matt turned to you with a grimace. “Shit, I didn’t bring any either. It didn’t cross my mind.”

With a humorous twinkle in your eye, you pinched his waist. “That’s ok, Matt. You can use some of mine whenever you want. Not a problem.”

Foggy’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious!?”

Ignoring him, Matt gave you an overly gracious smile, clearly picking up on your mirthful spirit. “That is so kind of you, sweetheart. You have such a giving personality.”

Foggy spluttered in irritation, head whipping between the two of you incredulously.

“Anything for my favorite guy.” You purred, sidling up to him as Foggy choked. Matt couldn’t help the flutter of his heart at the implication of you preferring him over anyone else.

“Guys, c'mon. You’re being mean.” Foggy pouted. You chuckled but pulled away from Matt to wrap the other boy in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Fog. I love you too, scout’s honor.”

Foggy grumbled at your promise, but returned the hug. “Yah, yah. Sure ya do. Anyway, are you gonna teach me something or will I continue to wander through this world clueless about the wonders of clean clothes?”

Giggling, you pulled him over to the machine and launched into a thorough explanation of the process. While he was sure you were sharing good tips, Matt’s brain was not at all focused on your words. His mind was transfixed on the heat cradling his shoulder from your faded touch, and the steadiness of your heart when you’d called him your favorite guy.

It was hard to not let his thoughts wander, when the smell of you coiled around him like a scarf on a bitter cold day. Your heartbeat danced along as you spoke animatedly with Foggy—teasing, confident personality slowly beginning to reveal itself as you grew more comfortable with the two roommates. Matt was no stranger to his tendency to fall head first for quick-witted women, but it was getting harder to obey his rational side when you opened yourself to him in ways like this.

Trusting him, encouraging his teasing sarcasm with your own goofy humor, leaning into his touchy nature as if you wanted it too. The fact that he was about to be wearing your laundry detergent for weeks was not going to help quell his growing infatuation.

Your voice broke through the growing pile of thoughts in his mind. “Right, Matt?”

“Uh, what?” His face must have reflected his dreamy confusion because Foggy snorted.

“Doing ok over there, Casanova? Did we lose you in the intricacies of a habit you already have?” Matt rolled his eyes as he heard two hands land on hips, knowing Foggy was giving him a shit-eating smirk.

“Believe it or not, Nelson, I don’t have the most fun listening to you all day every day. Forgive me for letting my mind wander while you learned something simple.” His tone was meant to be light, but the nerve Foggy had unknowingly struck left his voice harsher than intended.

Stepping in between him and his roommate, you placed a hand on his arm gently. “Hey, it’s ok that you tuned us out and it’s ok that Foggy needs help with this. I was just letting him know that we were always here if he had any questions.”

Wincing as he realized you were mediating a conflict he’d accidentally created, he smiled sadly at the blond. “Sorry, Fog. Of course you can ask me. Always. I’m practically a laundry expert.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

His attempt worked immediately. “Aw, you sap. You’re forgiven.” Foggy smashed himself against his roommate, eliciting a grunt from the taller man.

“Thanks, bud. I appreciate you both dealing with my bad mood today.” Matt spoke quietly, a flicker of fear sparking in his chest.

“What bad mood?” You asked, joining the hug. The two of you squeezed Matt until he groaned at you to get off, setting off fits of giggles in you and Foggy both.

“Ok, now that we’ve started the washer, I can give you the tour!” You exclaimed, stepping towards the doorway. “This way, gentlemen! Prepare to be amazed.”

The act of doing laundry at your place shouldn’t have been as life-changing as it was for Matt. Your soft floral scent clung to all of him—his clothes, his sheets, his skin. Each inhale brought him closer to you, and it was more indulgent than any sensation he’d ever experienced. Connecting with you at all was incredible, but to have your presence melding into his belongings as if you had chosen him, claimed him. It was divine.

Unfortunately, as had been evident his entire life, all good things come at a price. The cost of feeling this close to you was the new pressure on his delicate senses. He adored the fact that he was able to carry a piece of you with him, it brought more emotional comfort than he could have imagined, but his nose and skin were less happy about the idea.

“Matt, I’m begging you, rewash your clothes, man. You’re, like, allergic to that detergent, I think.” Foggy bit his lip, circling his roommate as he looked at the irritation crawling across Matt’s back.

“‘M fine, Fog.” Matt tugged on a shirt, ignoring the worry emanating from his roommate. “My skin is just sensitive, is all. It just needs to adjust.” He left out the fact that this slight effect was nothing compared to the reaction his skin had every time his clothes were washed in coarse starch by the nuns. At least this was a symptom of your genuine care for him, rather than general disdain for his needs.

“And this has nothing to do with that fact that you’re adorably into our mutual friend,” Matt winced as Foggy teasingly handed out your name.

“I’m not ‘into’ her, Fog! What the hell?”

“Sure, that’s why you’re walking around using more control than I’ve ever had in my life to not scratch your skin clean off your bones?” Foggy shook his head as Matt attempted to inconspicuously slide his hand back into his lap from where it was itching his side.

“Like I said, sensitive skin—“

“Not to mention that you’ve had more headaches this week than in the nearly two months I’ve known you?” Matt remained silent at the allegation, hoping not to convey admission with his lack of words.

The headaches had been more of a nuisance than the scratchy fabric rubbing at his angry skin. He wasn’t used to this much exposure to scented items in his personal space, let alone pressed against him. But it was all worth it to hear the sweet little sigh you gave when you were close to him, comforted by the familiarity.

“Nothing to say for yourself? You realize the more you avoid this conversation, the more likely it seems that you like her, right?”

Matt just sighed. “I can’t like her, Fog. We are in our first semester at one of the most prestigious law schools in the country and she’s one of two friends that I have. I can’t lose that, and I don’t have the time to start a real relationship. So we need to stay friends.”

“I get it, Matt. You’re not really a long term kind of guy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn! She is so sweet I’m sure she’d be more than patient with you.” Damn Foggy’s intuition for constantly discovering the core of Matt’s insecurities.

“She deserves better than me.”

“Matt—“

“No, Foggy,” Clenching his fists, Matt let out a breath through flaring nostrils. “I’m not good enough.”

Foggy sighed, but dropped the subject.

Despite Matt being more than confident in his inability to treat you the way you deserved, he found himself growing incredibly envious of the attention you started receiving from other men. There was no doubt in his mind that you were attractive, he’d had more than a few conversations with Foggy (and enough time in class biting his cheek in anger as the men around you fixated) to know that you caught the attention of damn near everyone in the room.

Maybe it was the fact that you weren’t afraid of standing up for your beliefs or confronting an ignorant point raised by a classmate. It also could’ve been the fact that you were one of the only students who knew what was going on. Your intelligence was captivating, and the way your voice carried defiantly across the room seemed to encourage the affections of both your peers and the Property Law TA.

Explanation for their interest aside, Matt found himself practically swatting potential suitors away from you each day, irritation swelling in his chest as your heart fluttered at the attention. You’d shyly admitted to him that you’d never had a long term relationship before and that you weren’t used to being sought after. If he was an ounce more of a man, he would have confessed just how much you deserved the affection, even when it wasn’t from him. It wasn’t fair of him to keep you from happiness, he knew that, but every time your pulse skipped as another boy complimented you, it felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

So he’d taken to stewing in his own silent fury, currently pretending to read ahead while actually listening intently to your bubbling laughter as a boy a few rows behind you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with some generic pick up line. Shifting in his seat to disguise the rumbling growl in his throat, his heart sank as the bachelor invited you to a party that evening. Giggling, you giddily accepted, writing down the details before scurrying back to your seat.

There was a noticeable warmth in the apples of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Matt could practically feel the radiant smile you were wearing. As he was working up the dignity to break the silence, you turned to him gleefully. “Matty,” He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip at the new affectionate nickname. “What would you say to attending our first college party?”

Trudging back to the corner across the horrifically sticky wood floor, Matt set his jaw and chugged the disgusting alcoholic sludge he’d been served. Waiting impatiently for the buzz to wash over him, he glowered in a stiff armchair as you flitted around with the overly flirtatious host. Foggy had disappeared ages ago with a peppy journalism student, telling him not to wait up.

The party was off campus at the house of your fellow Torts student. He and his large handful of housemates lived in a shabby 3 bedroom that felt fragile in design, as if the strong bass blasting from the beer-soaked speakers would shatter the foundation at any moment. Sweaty bodies pressed together in a pulsating mass, dancing to the ear-piercing techno music and slurping down cheap booze.

Matt was well aware that he was not explicitly invited to this soirée, but hearing you ramble excitedly at the idea of the three of you attending together had been too sweet to shut down. Your gracious host only seemed a bit miffed that two boys had shown up with you, taking no time to brush off Matt and Foggy’s polite greetings and whisk you away like the true gentleman he was shaping up to be.

James or Josh or whatever his name was, Matt could honestly care less, clearly intended to get in your pants, and was taking no time to attempt that. After pumping you full of Jell-O shots, he engaged you in conversation about the volunteer work he loved so much during high school. Matt didn’t need to hear his heartbeat to know that was utter bullshit, but you responded with elation, ecstatic to find another law student with a similar moral compass to your own. The dark haired law student was more focused on the fact that he could smell his rival’s arousal brewing, a set of wandering hands becoming increasingly noticeable despite the quaking music and overwhelming atmosphere. Hearing a nervous giggle spill out of your mouth as you shrugged out of an inebriated touch, Matt stumbled off the cushions he sat on, ambling over to you to ensure you were safe.

Before he’d even reached you, your attention landed on him and your pulse stilled. The relieved exhale that left your lips as your eyes found him in the crowd gave his ego a boost for the ages. Waltzing up to you with a smirk, he wrapped an arm protectively around your shoulders as you smiled up at him. “Hey, you! Long time, no see.” Your voice was cheerful despite the situation.

“You doing ok?” Matt asked, ignoring the brooding man to his left who had backed off a bit since Matt had walked over.

“Uh huh!” Your head bobbed with a nod, leaning into Matt, you waved towards your suitor. “Jake was just telling me about his work with the Red Cross after Hurricane Isabel.”

The buff man gave a condescending chuckle, eyes darting over your form. “The Peace Corps, actually.”

You gasped, “Oh, that’s right, I’m so sorry!” Jake simply smiled, his eyes darkening as Matt subconsciously clenched his hand around you.

“Quite alright, sweetheart,” He drawled and Matt’s small grin vanished. How dare he call you that? Only Matt was allowed to call you that. “It’s easy to get confused about that stuff. But, yah, it was just so…rewarding, ya know? Helping all those poor people who lost their homes. Can’t wait to do it again after graduating.”

“Oh, you’re going back to the Peace Corps? How noble of you,” Matt smiled, thinly covering his irritation at this jerk’s arrogance.

“Well, either that or a similar organization. It’s just so important to give back, ya know?” The tone of the other man indicated that he, too, was holding back a stream of anger.

As Matt was about to spit back a response, a drunk guy tripped into Jake, who promptly “spilled” (threw) his drink onto Matt’s pristine shirt. Jumping away from you, Matt stood up straight to let the excess liquid drip off his torso, trying not to scream as the damp fabric fused with his skin.

Jake, ever the charmer, let out a barking laugh. “Shit, sorry man. Wasn’t thinking.”

“Course you weren’t,” Matt muttered, flicking excess moisture from his hands.

“Oh gosh, you ok, Matty?” You hurried to grab paper towels from the counter behind you, pressing a wad into Matt’s hands while using another handful to dry his shirt yourself. Standing there frozen, Matt’s tipsy brain couldn’t fathom how amazing it felt to have your fingers pressed against his stomach as you tried to clean him up.

Realizing with a jolt that he hadn’t responded to your worried question, he placed a hand over yours gently. “Uh, yah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry about him, beautiful, he can clean up in the bathroom while we chat.” Heat pushed aggressively at his already sticky skin as Jake sidled up behind you, placing eager hands on your waist as the douchebag tried to pry you from Matt.

Suddenly, something in him snapped. He wasn’t happy with the immense amount of sensation he’d had to endure nor the fact that he’d been listening to a complete asshole flirt with you all night. Not to mention, said asshole seemed to be moving faster than you wanted and was now physically removing you from Matt’s safeguarding after pouring foul-smelling punch all over his clean shirt? That was just unacceptable. The dark force within Matt that was constantly simmering below the surface was ready to erupt.

Stepping forward with a snarl, Matt was ready for a fight, but he didn’t have to start one.

Pulling out of the grasp of your aggressive suitor’s hands, you intertwined your fingers with Matt’s. “Sorry, Jake, but I should get going. I have to be up for a scholarship event tomorrow, and I’ll need a good amount of sleep if I want to act not-hungover.” You giggled, smiling at him. “I’ll see you around?”

“Sure. Whatever,” Jake feigned a smile, stalking away but muttering loud enough for Matt to hear, “Stupid bitch.”

Matt growled, taking a firm step towards him, but you tugged on his hand. “Hey,” You murmured, squeezing his hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

Not wanting to upset you by giving away the other man’s shitty intentions, Matt trailed after you as you wove through the crowd and out the door. The grip of your fingers around his hand was grounding, allowing him to push away the less pleasant feelings from the party. Shoving past a group of people playing beer pong outside, you sighed as your lungs took in fresh air for the first time in a few hours.

“Wow, that was…” you trailed off, steps faltering slightly.

“Yah.” Matt agreed, trying not to blush as you linked your arms together on the path towards his dorm. “I’m…sorry.”

Turning to him, your footwork halted. “For what, Matty?”

“I didn’t mean to stop you from enjoying yourself. You and…Jake,” Matt practically choked around the name. “Really seemed to hit it off.”

You were quiet for a moment, your steady heartbeat echoing in Matt’s ears, before you burst out laughing. Giggles became chuckles which transformed into uproarious laughter. You had to pull yourself out of Matt’s hold to cradle your stomach as you cracked yourself up. Matt just stared blankly at you, brain flooding with pure confusion.

“Matt,” You wheezed. “He’s a total douchebag.”

“But, but I thought—“ Matt shook his head, breaking into his own set of giggles listening to your bright, infectious ones. “Stop laughing! He was all over you!”

“Yah because he’s a douchebag!” You exclaimed, as if it was obvious. Falling back against Matt’s side, you tucked an arm around his waist and began marching forward again. “He told me that bullshit story about the Peace Corps, but they don’t accept minors. So he was either lying about that or his age.”

“Why did you talk to him for so long? You had me fooled.” Matt ran a hand over your back, smiling with relief that you hadn’t been as smitten with Jake as he’d assumed.

“I don’t know!” You shoved him lightly as he snorted at your behavior. “I’m awkward, Matty! I kept trying to end the conversation and he just. Kept. Talking. And then I felt bad because he seemed like an ok guy, but then he started getting handsy and I was soooo over it.”

Growling deeply, Matt’s arm tightened around you. “I’m pretty sure everyone in the room was over it at that point.”

You just hummed in thought. “Well it’s a good thing I have my Matt in Shining Armor. Now let’s get you home so you can change.”

“About that..” Matt slowed his pace, not wanting to let you go quite yet. He needed a plan, and fast.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just…I can’t exactly tell, but I assume the shirt is going to stain?”

With a grimace, you traced a finger over the patch the drink had touched. Matt’s light blue shirt wouldn’t stand a chance after 24 hours. “Oof. It’s likely if it’s not treated tonight. That punch was eerily red. Like inedibly vibrant in color. But if you use a stain remover—“

“I don’t have that.” Matt blurted, “I, er, I just really like this shirt,” God, that was the worst excuse he had ever come up with. Nice going, Murdock. “and I don’t want it to stain. Would you, um, could you—“

“Is the great Matthew Murdock asking for my assistance with laundry?” He could hear the smirk you wore. “I thought you were an expert.”

“That’s hearsay.” He objected, teasingly.

You giggled once more. “Well, what kind of person would I be if I let my knight’s shining armor stay tarnished?”

Matt feigned a groan at your cheesy comment. “You know what, on second thought—“ He started to pull away from you, but you held fast.

“Nope! You want to hang out with me even though I say goofy shit. That’s your bad. No turning back now, you’re in too deep, Murdock.”

“Lucky me.” Matt remarked, but there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“C’mon, slowpoke!! Time is of the essence!” You pulled Matt up the last flight of stairs to your loft, laughing as he pretended to go limp so you would drag him further. “Hey! Be careful, trouble, you weigh more than I can handle.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Matt lurched forward, toppling against you as you opened the door. You squealed, but nestled into the contact anyway. The door creaked open and you both shuffled inside, there was no sign of anyone else in the apartment.

“My roommate went out with her boyfriend.” You explained, as if reading his mind. “They usually hang out here but I think they were drinking for free somewhere.”

“Good for them.” Matt snorted, being tugged towards your laundry room.

You instructed him to sit on top of the dryer while you opened the washer. “Your shirt, sir,” Holding out a hand to him, you messed with settings on the machine.

Removing each plastic button from its corresponding fabric loop, Matt was suddenly painfully aware of how intimate the action was. Biting his lip to keep his growing…feelings…at bay, he tried not to dwindle on the fact that you had asked him to undress. In your apartment. Alone.

You may have just realized the tension of the moment as well, heat flooding your body as your movement stilled. In one swift movement, Matt gracefully removed the dress shirt and placed it in your outstretched palm, imaginary sparks cascading up his arm as his fingertips brushed your bare skin.

“Thank you,” You nearly whispered, gaze lingering on his parted lips for a moment too long before you busied yourself at the washer. “Um, Hydrogen peroxide should fix the discoloration. It might smell a little, though. We may need to wash it twice.”

“That’s, uh, that’s fine.” Matt murmured, arousal becoming difficult to ignore.

“I can wash your undershirt too, if you want,” Matt’s skin jumped as your fingers danced over the fabric where the spilled drink had seeped through.

“Yah. Yah, ok.” Your hand rose and fell with Matt’s chest as he breathed. Time had slowed to a crawl, nothing existing outside the little haven you had painstakingly created for him. Tugging the garment up and over his head, he gripped it tightly for a moment before passing it over. “Here.”

You took the fabric gingerly, eyes not straying from his mouth. “Thanks.” Still clenching the shirt in one hand, you cupped his cheek and leaned in. Matt greedily followed your lead, nose bumping against yours for only a second before—

The sound of a door slamming made you both jump apart. Drunken laughter rang throughout the hallway but abruptly stopped as Oscar and Jen took in the scene before them. Eyes flitting between shirtless, panting Matt, and your embarrassed face, it painted quite the picture.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Jen giggled, pulling Oscar towards her room.

“Carry on, children!” Oscar guffawed, running after her.

Grimacing, you turned back to Matt. “Shit, Matt, I—“

“You know what, I should really get going.” Matt snatched his undershirt from your open hand, sliding off the dryer and beelining for the door.

“Matt, wait!” You called after him, but he was already gone.

Exhaling nervously, you clenched your fingers around the item you held before knocking firmly on the door.

Foggy’s equally anxious face appeared as the door opened. Tension ebbed from his brow slightly as he met your wide eyes. “Well, what do you know!” He greeted you in a loud voice laced with false surprise. “So lovely to see you, my dear. Please, come in.”

Stepping past Foggy with a grimace of a smile, your gaze quickly found Matt—tucked away against his thin headboard, looking like he wanted to vanish into the faux wood.

“Wow, would you look at the time. I really should be going.” Seizing his coat from the bed, Foggy scurried to the door.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked, frantically.

“Out. With, er, my other friends. Bye!” The slam of a door concluded his swift exit.

You avoided looking at Matt, shuffling from foot to foot for a moment before sitting at the edge of Foggy’s bed. The raven-haired boy had a skittish energy, like a feral cat, and you didn’t want to scare him off.

Biting your lip, you desperately scrounged for any remaining courage within yourself, trying to muster up the nerve to break the silence, but Matt beat you to it.

“I’m starting to think you two planned that.” He spoke quietly, toying with a stray thread on his comforter.

You gave a humorless chuckle. “Guess we need to work on our acting skills, huh?”

Matt just grunted. C’mon Murdock, work with me here.

You took a deep breath, “Matt, about Thursday night—“ Your sweet friend interrupted you with a wince.

“I’m sorry.” Matt’s face was practically mournful, but his apology left you confused.

“Sorry for what?” You tilted your head, honed in on him as he curled further into the corner.

“I…I made it weird. I didn’t mean to, it just happened! You were trying to do something nice and then I had to go and ruin it and then your roommates came home and—“

“Oh, Matty,” You launched yourself off of Foggy’s bed and flung your arms around Matt. Startled, he teetered for a moment before returning the hug. “You didn’t ruin anything. We were both…a little tipsy, and it was late. We weren’t acting like ourselves. We can just forget about it!”

Pushing down the disappointment that surfaced at your desire to move past the near kiss, Matt was a bit relieved that you didn’t hate him. “Really?” He asked as you settled against his side, nestling into the arm he threw over you as if you belonged there.

“Of course! If you’re willing, we can move past it.” Then, with a bit more vulnerability, you added, “I care about you a lot, trouble. I’m not going to let a little awkwardness keep us apart.”

Matt smiled as you rested your head against his shoulder, taking a moment to weave your fingers together. He basked in your warmth for a bit before curiosity outweighed his desire to hold you.

“What did you bring with you?” His voice was still soft, tentative, like he was still doubting that you cared for him.

“Oh!” Escaping his grasp, you leapt to grab the crumpled heap of fabric from the other bed. “I brought back your shirt.”

Matt gingerly took the clothing from you, wondering why he hadn’t smelled the strong floral detergent when you came in. Forgetting his manners, he brought the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply before running his fingers over it.

It was soft, more so than when he had worn it last. It held traces of your vanilla soap, and even fainter remnants of tequila and peroxide, but it smelled like…nothing. Or as close to nothing as any porous object could ever get with his delicate senses.

“I, um, I hope it’s ok. I used a new detergent. Fragrance and dye free, supposed to be good for sensitive skin.” You shifted on the balls of your feet, watching him turn the shirt in his grasp .

Taking your hand, Matt tugged you back against his hip, embracing you again. “Thank you.” He struggled to form the words around the lump of emotion in his throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Foggy may have mentioned that the clothes we washed last time were giving you a reaction.” You shoved him lightly. “You should have told me!”

Shrugging, Matt sighed. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Snuggling in closer, you frowned. “You never bother me, trouble. You ok?”

Matt scrubbed at his eyes hastily, “M’fine.” You clearly didn’t buy his bullshit, but you didn’t call him on it either, simply using a gentle thumb to wipe away a stray tear that his hands missed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Matty. But, if you want to, I’m right here.”

Eyes filling with tears again, he stifled a sob, waiting for the ability to pull himself together before he spilled his secrets to you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get emotional, it’s just—“ Your hand came up to stroke through his hair as a strangled cry broke free. “No one has ever done this for me before. I’m just…not used to it.”

“You’re my best friend, Matt. You deserve to be taken care of, and I’m happy to do it.” Pressing a kiss to his temple, you guided him to your shoulder and simply let him cry.

Tag list: @eugene-emt-roe @abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock

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kaepop-trash · 1 year

Text

Under the Table

It all started with this song and then sort of took on a life of it's own. Gotta love a good monkey brain creation sometimes. This is not edited, or even really thought out for that matter, y'all know the drill. I just needed to get it out of my system so I could move on with my life.

Tags: Sugarbaby au, (sort of) Infidelity, Rich Brat Johnny

Synopsis: There are a lot of choices that need to be made when you have big dreams. Big dreams require work, sacrifices and time. Most importantly though, big dreams need big bills. That was the decision that led you here.

Mr. Suh was as generous as he was supportive. You had an affinity for business that a self-made man like him could appreciate, he had the money and connections that you couldn't ignore. But it was that spoiled son of his that was an obstruction in your well carved path to success. The son that you wanted in a way you could never want his father.

Warnings: Smut, Sex, Penetration, Spanking, Kissing; Father and Son sleeping with the same woman (Hmm); Risqué public behaviour, Alchohol, Language

WC: 2.4K

The phone rang in the dark room, making her eyes shoot open. Arms scrambled, letting go of its tight grip on his back. She reached for the object.

His hand came over hers, the weight alone enough to press it down into the mattress— in place. His fingers carded over hers.

"You're on my time now, (Y/N)." He clicked his tongue, voice making her turn to him. His once neatly styled hair fell over his face, shirt hanging open and brushing against her chest.

"Johnny." She tried to sound firm, scolding him. In the back, the phone still rang.

"Try again. With more passion this time." He teased, making her brows knit in frustration. The moment her lips parted, he thrust into her with a clean jerk.

"Johnny, fuck." She moaned, clenching his hand.

"Yes, just like that." He demanded, pulling out so slowly that she whined.

"We have to go." She reminded him, her other hand gripping the back of his neck for dear life. "We're so late."

"I know." He cooed, "But it's just a party, (Y/N). It can wait." He leaned over, kissing over her jaw as he slowly entered her again. "Would you rather I stop?" He asked, knowing the answer already.

She shook her head, wrapping her legs around his waist to keep him in place.

He smiled against her skin, tracing his lips all over her neck, her chest.

"Go faster." She panted, nails digging into his knuckles.

"You feel so good like this, though." His words sputtered as he focused on the grip of her warm walls.

"Johnny," She tried to coax him, "Just a little faster. What good is this if you can't make me feel good?"

He nipped at her neck, "This doesn't feel good?"

She didn't respond for a moment, caught in her own trap.

"It can feel better.” She added carefully after several moments, “Faster." She pressed her legs tighter, demanding more than insisting.

He watched her face as it scrunched closer to the centre, getting more impatient.

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, amusement making his eyes sparkle.

"Johnny." She snapped, the hand around her neck slapping his back hard.

In an instant, the glint in his eyes darkened, making her insides flutter to mush.

"If that's how you want to play," He moved back despite her grip. Before she could let out a word of protest, he flipped her on her stomach, "You should have just asked." He landed a single slap on her ass, making her buck forward.

She hissed, feeling herself get wet from the sudden shock.

"Johnny." Her voice was no longer harsh, a desperate plea.

He got off the bed, spreading her legs wider. "Fine, we'll go faster if that's what you want." He lifted her waist higher, "Hands above your head, sweetheart." He ordered.

She did what she was told, his sharp words edging on tantalising.

He entered her without warning this time, both of them moaning loudly.

"What's got you so wet, babe?" He taunted her, not waiting for an answer.

Once he settled on a pace, Johnny was insatiable. She clawed at her own sheets, trying to find ground while her entire body shook from a mix of his aggressive thrusts and her own muscles.

"I'm going to come" She sighed, picking her head to let him know.

"Finally." He huffed, grabbing her waist harder.

"It's going to bruise." She complained, trying to reach his hand to push it away. Her head dropped back when he snapped his hips. He slapped her ass again, the sound louder than the impact. She wondered if it would leave a mark.

Her body shattered up to her high, a surprised cry leaving her lips. Johnny came almost immediately after, falling on top of her from exhaustion.

She didn't even notice her phone had stopped ringing till the silence felt too deafening.

His soft laugh in her ear filled the space.

"Where were you? I called you; why didn't you answer?" Mr. Suh asked the moment the both of them walked in.

"Your son picked me up very late." She pointed behind her to where Johnny stood, still trying to put his hair back in place. The other question was left unbreached.

"He's never had a reason to be on time anywhere." Mr. Suh laughed, kissing her cheek lightly before stepping back. She couldn't tell if it was an excuse or a jab.

Johnny came up beside them, slipping his arm through hers.

"I hope you can teach my son how to behave tonight." Mr. Suh eyed Johnny's crumpled shirt with distaste.

Johnny scoffed, pinching her waist. She bit down on her cheek, stifling her yelp and trying to hide the move with a shift.

"I'll try my best." She sounded distracted, trying to move his hand away.

Johnny did surprisingly behave. He introduced her to few people and sprinkled in the right praise. She wasn't sure if there was a catch to his kindness.

"So, how did you two meet?" A woman who Johnny introduced as the creative director of the newest popular clothing label asked.

He turned to pick up two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, taking his arm out of hers. She tried not to feel too nervous at the sudden lack of physical reassurance. Especially when she didn't even realise his touch was meant to be reassuring.

"We're in the same class in business school." To her surprise, he went with the truth. "She's much smarter than me, so I had to bag her." He laughed, handing her the glass. Adding to her surprise, he slipped his hand over her waist, giving her ass a squeeze.

“(Y/N).” She heard Mr. Suh's voice from behind them— stern. She had no doubt he saw Johnny's action. Despite what he told the woman, Johnny was a shrewd bastard. She pushed his hand off her, excusing herself from the woman.

She walked towards Johnny's father, his impassive irritation fixed on the back of his son's head.

"There's someone you should meet." He looked at her with the usual kind smile.

(Y/N) would have had a fruitful conversation with the Fortune 500 CEO Mr. Suh introduced her to if he hadn't been sizing her up the entire time she spoke. When the man did speak, he only mentioned his upcoming summer vacation before swiftly moving on to a discussion with Mr. Suh.

Stuck in place, not knowing what to do, she started looking around the room.

She wondered if her discomfort was evident on her face or if it was something else. When her eyes met Johnny's, they were on her; the same dark glint in his eyes that made her stomach flip. Except the frown on his lips, the deep furrow of his brows, made him look furious. She wondered if it was something else.

(Y/N) willed herself to look away when Mr. Suh mentioned her name, talking about her promising stint as an intern at his company.

"And she's a pretty face to have around too." Mr Suh joked, catching her off-guard.

"That's a bold thing to say about my girlfriend." Johnny's arm snaked around her waist.

Her heart fell, beating loudly in her stomach. She turned to him with a panicked look, but he gave her a lazy smile.

He was drunk, she realised.

"But I don't blame you." Johnny sighed, "She is beautiful." He said with his eyes on her, giving her a soft smile and pushing her hair away from her face. Like he was getting a better look.

"You're a lucky man." The man in front of them commented. Her eyes stayed on Johnny, equally furious and confused.

Johnny scoffed, the dark glint returning. "If you say so, Uncle." He turned to give him a half-hearted smile, pulling her closer to him.

She didn't know what to do, frozen in place as she felt everything she worked for fall apart. She didn't dare turn to Mr. Suh, not even ready to figure out what he was thinking.

Johnny leaned over, brushing his lips over her temples. "Come, there's someone I want you to meet." His breath smelled like whiskey and lemon. She couldn't do anything but nod.

"Why would you do that?" She hissed, "Your father saw you grab my ass too!" She shrugged him off her the moment they stepped away from the ballroom into an empty corridor. “You always ruin everything.”

Johnny smiled, unfazed. "He's the one who wanted me to bring you here as my arm candy. I was just playing the part."

"You're a god-honest dick." She groaned, her fear coming out as venom. "What if he finds out?"

"About what?" Johnny asked, stepping forward.

She groaned, stepping back from him.

"About what, (Y/N)?" He didn't relent, stalking closer.

She tried to look away from him, to back away from him. But both proved to be futile causes.

"You don't want him to know I'm fucking his pretty little baby? For free nonetheless." He laughed when she fluttered her gaze away at that.

"Stop it." She pushed him, "Your father was trying to do a nice thing for me. You've ruined it. Now you're acting like a child."

"He's trying to find a man that will be willing to take you as a trophy wife."

"No," She defended him, "He's helping me make connections. Because he believes in my potential, Johnny." She groaned, feeling her frustration bubble to the surface.

He hummed, unconvinced. "Every person you were introduced to today, by both of us, will call you starting tomorrow." He slipped his hands into his pocket, giving her a glowering look. "Let me know what they say. Let me know who messages you tonight and who on Monday morning."

He was closer now, walking into her personal space effortlessly.

"Your father is a good man, Johnny." She said weakly.

"The kind of man who hires my classmate as his plaything."

Her entire face soured, trying to push him away again. "Business school is expensive. Not all of us have rich daddies to support us."

"You do have a very rich daddy supporting you, sweetheart." He chuckled. She shoved him harder this time. He pushed back easily just to mess with her.

The move made her lose balance. He had to grab her wrist on his chest to keep her from falling. He didn't let it go once she was steady.

"I'm not judging your choices." His eyes softened, "This is about him, not you."

"You hate him so much, yet you're all set to be the next him." Her face twisted, "Or is that why?" Her eyes held the spite her tone lacked. “Some of us have to carve our own ways.”

The words made the kindness leech from his eyes. Johnny pushed her back roughly till her back pressed against the wall.

"So obedient for him, (Y/N). Why can't you be like that for me?" His hands slid up the high slit on her dress, making her breath hitch. "Because he pays for it?"

She felt rage coat her vision, turning her blind to any sympathy. "He's a better man than you." She said the words she knew would hurt him.

His hand immediately grabbed her face, squeezing her chin between his fingers. He made her look up to meet his eyes, "Do you suck his dick as well as you ride it?" He sneered. "You should show me sometime." He added when she didn't respond.

"You can't afford me, Johnny Suh. Even the money you'd throw my way would be his." Her words, muffled from his hold, were no less scathing.

"Bitch." He came closer, lips inches away from hers, "You'll take what I give you. Who's going to screw you like I do? Like the bad little whore you are." His lips brushed over hers, making her gasp. "Isn't that right, baby? Have you ever said anybody's name like you say mine?" He squeezed her cheeks this time, more gentle but no less insistent. "As desperately as you scream mine?"

She didn't answer him, keeping her enraged gaze locked on his. He seemed unaffected.

"Can he even make you come?" His hand slipped past the slit of the dress, brushing against her thighs. Her eyes fluttered shut. "That man only knows how to take, doesn't he?" His lips brushed over her cheek. "There's nothing wrong in taking from him in return. I just want you to see the truth."

"Johnny." She gasped when his thumb brushed over her clothed core.

"Hmm?" He hummed, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth. She hesitated momentarily, tilting her head to press her lips over his shortly after. Johnny's hand came to her jaw, the other on the wall to keep her caged in. Like he was afraid she'd run away. His tongue flicked across her lower lip, pressing against hers and slowly devouring every crevice. He kissed her slow and deep, taking his time to taste the champagne and fury on her lips.

She was the first to move, pushing him back. He obliged, pressing his lips on her eyelid.

They stood like that for a moment, still like somehow it would make them invisible. Like time would not pass if it couldn't find them.

"I don't think we should do this anymore." She breathed out after several moments.

Johnny scoffed, "You say that every few weeks." He brushed his lips over her temple.

"I mean it this time. I'm done." She bit down on her bottom lip, afraid that it would quiver. "I can't do this anymore." She tried to move, but he stopped her.

"No, (Y/N) look at me." He urged, trying to grab her cheek, but she evaded it.

"At some point. You'll have to learn to take no for an answer." Her face and voice steeled over, not looking into his eyes at all. "I'm tired of this. I'm not some object you can use to get back at your father." She clicked her tongue when he didn't budge, forehead creasing.

"You're not–" He stopped his voice from escalating. "You don't mean that." He coaxed her, trying to keep her pinned.

"Move!" She snapped, turning to him with untethered rage before looking away just as fast.

"(Y/N)–" He sounded so lost, so hurt. Her face faltered, and so would her conviction if her phone didn't ring.

She reached into her purse, both of them already knowing who it was.

"Yes?" She answered.

"Where are you?" Mr. Suh asked, "It's time to leave."

"I'm just fixing my makeup; I'll meet you at the entrance." She responded, hanging up after.

"You're coming home with me tonight," Johnny said, sounding like a wounded child.

"You don't make that decision for me." She spoke without turning back to him, walking away without waiting for his response.

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